Mislead Loyalty
by Ginnerva-Riddle
Summary: The war is going badly, the Dark side is steadily gaining the upper hand. Dumbledore has to do something to stop Voldemort, his plan hinges on Ginny Weasley's loyalty to Harry and the Light. He sends Ginny back to 1945 to assassinate teenaged Tom Riddle. He had no idea how horribly wrong things would go. - Full detailed description inside. Dumbledore Bashing! Evil/Dark Ginny!
1. When Sin Meets Its Match

Summary:

The war was not going well, in fact, Dumbledore and his army were losing badly. They needed a secret weapon. But they could not change current events. Or could they? That thought sparked a brilliant idea. Send someone back to a time to kill Tom Riddle before he can become Voldemort. But who should they send? They needed someone they knew he would let into his circle of close followers. The person also had to be someone they never thought would turn against them. The only person that matched that was Ginny. She would never turn on Harry or her family. What happens if she goes back, and instead of killing Tom, she falls in love with him. After all, he was seventeen when he controlled her with the diary. What can she do when faced with the man she was in love with when eleven years. Feelings as strong as that never truly leave you. What if she does not kill him, but comes back as his evil queen?

Authors note:

Welcome my lovlies! I have a story I believe will dazzle you! If you like it please review and let me know. If people like it I'll write up and post the rest of the story, I do have the first five chapters written. If ya'll don't like it I'll delete this. Also, this story will contain graphic violence. Don't like it? Feel free not to read it. No one is forcing you... I realize that sounds mean, but I hate getting nasty reviews and comments about the violence in my stories. There is a clear warning and it's rated M... Anyway, I digress. I will make it clear before I start the violent part, so you can skip that if you prefer. But I feel it'll make the story loose something.

Disclaimer:

I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. Face it, if I did I am sure it would not have turned out nearly as well as what came out of J.K's mind. Lol, it would have been a dark book, and old Dumbles would have died in book one... Anyway... Onto the story!

Story: Mislead Loyalties

Chapter: When Sin Meets Its Match

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><p>"Ginny, where are you going?" Hermione's sleepy voice almost made Ginny curse as she turned around to look at the other girl. "Nothing Hermione. Just going to the loo" Ginny whispered softly "Go back to sleep" she needed Hermione to stay in bed and leave her alone so she could get out of this stupid house. She could not afford to be late, again. "Oh, okay" The brunette laid back down, already falling back asleep. Ginny let out a relieved sigh when she let the bedroom door close behind her with a soft click.<p>

She moved slowly down the steps of Grimuald Place, careful to step past the creaky stair. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, listening for movement. In the distance she could hear her parents speaking, from the amount of muffling she could tell they were downstairs in the kitchen. Footsteps were rapidly approaching and she froze in place, hoping whoever was coming would turn and go down to the kitchen. She heard a giant thump and someone cursing under their breath before hearing the footsteps descend the stairs. She couldn't help but smirk, that had to be Tonks tripping over something. She had no idea how someone could be so clumsy.

When she was certain no one else was moving in the close area she slipped off the stairs and across the hall, closing the drawing room door behind her with as little sound as she could manage with the creaky door. She moved quickly across the room, pulling a small bag out of her pocket, pulling a pinch of green ash out. She stepped into the large fireplace, dropping the powder "Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry" she called in a voice barely louder then a whisper. She winced when green flames licked up around her, causing her to spin around violently as images of fireplaces flew past her. By the time she stopped spinning she was ready to throw up. She hated the floo network. It didn't matter if she went through with your eyes open or closed, she hated the floo network.

She stepped out of the fireplace, hearing a clock chime from the north tower. "Headmaster" she said cooly, not wanting to be here right now. She had spent every night in his office for almost three months. School started in a week and she was exhausted, she just wanted some sleep. "Ms. Weasley, I have decided to issue you another test." Ginny rolled her eyes, she could do this in her sleep. They had trained everything she could possibly need to know, and she'd taken numerous tests he had demanded. She had no idea what else he could possibly want from her. "Fine, but no more please?" She almost begged, rubbing her eyes. "I'm exhausted, and with school starting next week I want to just sleep" she said with a sigh. This year would be really strange, not having Hermione, Ron or Harry around. Her seventh year was shaping up to be very boring. She moved to sit down, not noticing the irritated look Dumbledore gave her.

"Who is the minister of Magic?" Ginny rolled her eyes, this was so old. "Faris Spavin was Minister from 1865 until 1961, he was known as "Spout-Hole". The exact reason is unknown, but it was given to him by the centaurs who later assassinated him." She took a breath, a bored expression on her face. "He is best known for his laws passed regulating quiddich and did very little anywhere else. He is the longest serving Minister in history and a Halfblood. Though he claimed pure blooded status, which was discovered to be false during Grindelwald's reign"

"How long did Grindelwald terrorize the wizarding world, how was he stopped and when?" Ginny paused, pulling all her information to mind on Gellert Grindelwald. "He was born in 1882, at sixteen he was expelled from Durmstrang, because they could no longer ignore his dark tenancies." She knew information from history lessons, but she had to remember to only give information that would be widely known by 1945. "His base of operations is in middle Europe, at the time is was only speculated, but has since been proven to be his prison Nurmengard in Poland. He is at his height of power in September of 1945, but he will be defeated in December of 1945." She paused, chewing on her lip as she called to memory all of the archived newspapers she had read. "He was known as the Dark Wizard Grindelwald, and unlike Voldemort no one ever feared speaking his name. He also was less bloody in his campaign, though his followers did commit many crimes and several political assassinations. There was no mass murder or torture like there is with Voldemort. His goal was to eliminate the need for the Statute of Secrecy, he intended to destroy all muggles or at least most muggles so Wizards no longer needed to hide." She said with a yawn, she really was tired. "He ends up being imprisoned inside Nurmengard where he remains to this day. Though no one has seen him, how can you be sure he hadn't died Professor?" she asked curiously, turning her eyes to him. She did not miss the strange look in his eye, almost like he was reminiscing something. "He lives in the tower still, Ms. Weasley." He said in a cryptic voice, making Ginny raise an eyebrow questioningly.

"Who are the faculty of Hogwarts?" He said after an uncomfortable silent moment. "Armando Dippet is the Headmaster. You taught Transfiguration and were Deputy Headmaster. Galatea Merrythought is the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and her post was highly controversial because she's a woman. It was considered unladylike for her to be teaching such a potentially violent subject, but when she defeated six wizards in a duel she was grudgingly appointed to the post. She held the post from 1895 until 1945 when she retired. The curse was not placed on the position until 1946 when Tom placed it there." She took a breath, trying to stay awake. "Horace Slughorn teaches Potions, and I'd like to point out while he is an adequate teacher, he's a blowhard with a hard on for anyone who might become someone" she ignored the disapproving look from Dumbledore.

"Silvanus Kettleburn taught Care of Magical Creatures starting in 1939, and did not retire till five years ago. Which is a miracle, because he barely had any part of him that wasn't scared... Though Hagrid is a decent teacher, despite bringing in creatures no student should be around" She said drifting off into her own thoughts. "Herbert Beery taught Herbology during the time Armando Dippet was Headmaster..." She paused when Dumbledore held up his hand, giving him a questioning look. "Very good Ms. Weasley, I believe that is enough of the staff..." He was confidant she knew them well enough, he did not need her to list off the remaining two dozen teachers and their positions.

"Does that mean I can go home now?" Well, to Grimuald place anyway, they hadn't lived at the burrow in almost a year due to the threat of the war. "Not quite Ms. Weasley. What year did Tom Riddle kill his parents and Grandparents?" Dumbledore gave her a disapproving look, she needed to be prepared and he was getting fed up with her whining. "He killed them in the summer of 1943, at his ancestral home in Little Hangleton. The following school year he opened the Chamber of Secrets and injured several students, including the death of Moaning Merytle. He also framed Hagrid and got him expelled." She said with a sigh, so ready to leave this office. "That is also when he made the diary I found when I was eleven. I need to destroy it before I'm going to be able to kill him" she said so casually that it was hard to imagine she was talking about murdering someone. "Look, Headmaster, we've been going over this all summer. Every night for three months! I'm exhausted, and I can do this. I am ready" she said in an exasperated voice. "I believe you are right Ms. Weasley, you are ready." Dumbledore said in a thoughtful voice. "Get ready, I'll have your school trunk ready for you. Arrive here tomorrow at five and I will have the ritual ready to send you back." Ginny's eyes snapped up, shocked he would send her so quickly. "Headmaster! What about my parents? And my brothers!" She exclaimed, alarmed she might not get to say goodbye to her family. Even if she succeeded in her mission and didn't die, there was no guarantee the ritual to send her forward in time would work. She might never see her family again. "I can't leave with out telling them! I won't!" She did not miss the irritated look on Dumbledore's face. He did not like having people not do as he told them. "Very well, Ms. Weasley. Be here at five tomorrow, and I will make sure your family is here to say goodbye." He conceded, a simple goodbye was not worth losing all his hard work over. He needed someone who could get to Tom's core, someone he shared a connection with. That left Harry or Ginny. He would have preferred to send Harry, as he was more easy to manipulate, but if this plan failed he would need a back up plan. Not to mention Harry had to die in order to kill Voldemort, if he had been sent back in time this would remain true. If he sent Ginny back in time the only soul piece she would have to content with was the Diary.

Ginny nodded, flooing back to Grimuald place before Dumbledore could stop her. She went to her bed, erecting a thick layer of silencing charms and locking charms to keep everyone away from her bed so she could sleep. Tomorrow would be a rough day and she did not want to enter it exhausted.

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><p>Ginny was sitting in the headmasters office, waiting for the floo to come to life. She was nervous, she felt like she might throw up any second. She knew her parents would react badly, especially her mother. Her brothers were a different story, Bill and Charlie would probably demand she not go. She expected Percy would have some kind of logical reasoning why Ginny had to stay, while Fred and George would be the only ones encouraging her. A smile settled on her lips as she thought about the twins. They really were the only family she really thought she had. They were the only ones who truly understood her, they knew things about her no one else did. They knew her secrets and still loved her, they encouraged her no matter what she wanted. They never tried to force her to be anything other then who she was. No one was supposed to know about her mission. She had to keep the entire thing a secret. She felt bad for lying to the twins, they had asked her once where she was going and she lied to them. She knew they would understand, but that only made her feel worse for lying to them. There were a few times when she thought she'd loose it and tell them where she had been sneaking off too, but she'd managed to come up with a lie and get out of there before she cracked. Dumbledore wouldn't have like it if anyone knew what she was training for.<p>

She was so grateful that Dumbledore was at least allowing her to say good bye to her family, not to mention Harry and Hermione. A small smile formed on her lips when she thought of Harry. Everyone thought they were romantically involved. Even her mother was convinced they would get married as soon as she finished school. Not that she would mind that, Harry was nice enough. He was the kind of man everyone expected her to marry. While Harry was perfect, she had a hard time picturing herself married to him. Something in the back of her mind told her it wasn't right, it wasn't him she was supposed to be devoted to. She did love him, but in the way she loved Ron or any of her brothers.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat, bringing her back from her own thoughts. She coughed, glancing at the fire place. She was nervous, she almost wished she'd only demanded to say goodbye to the twins. She expected an explosion soon. They would be angry about her accepting the mission from Dumbledore, they would be angry she had been sneaking out of Grimuald place. She expected her mother would rant and rave about how it wasn't appropriate for her to get involved in the war like this. Her mother would always be of the opinion that Ginny was to young for everything. It didn't matter if she was 85, she would still be to young to do anything. Not to mention her mother's bizare delusion that Ginny would grow up to be nothing more then a house witch. More often then not Ginny was convinced her mother did not want a daughter, she wanted a clone. She wanted Ginny to stay home, keep house and pop out as many babies as she could. Anything less then Ginny being a perfect lady was unacceptable.

Ginny was not worried about her mission at all. She knew everything she would need to know. Everything from how to walk, talk and for all practical purposes, be from 1945. The most interesting part of her training had been when she had watched muggle movies from the time period. She also read books, watched Dumbledore's own memories, and listened to old lectures from the professors of the time. She was confidant she could blend in easily. She had debated on using a glamor to change her hair and freckles, even in 1945 the Weasley look was recognizable. But she decided against it. It would be to hard for her to remember every morning to redo the glamor, not to mention she could get the color slightly different with out being careful, she would simply claim she knew nothing about the Weasley clan. She did decide to use an accent glamor in order to help her story, she'd only need to use it once and then it would become part of who she was until she purposefully canceled it.

She stood up, unable to sit down anymore. She felt like she was going to go insane from her nerves. She caught sight of herself in the glass case. She couldn't believe how different she looked then when she had come in here only a few hours ago. She wore a school uniform with the Hogwarts crest, instead of a House crest, though it looked different despite the different crest. The grey skirt was longer than the uniform she normally wore, it went down past her knees by several inches. She would easily admit she like the soft blue sweater better then the white uniform shirt the girls had to wear now, it looked basically the same as the boy's uniform shirt. This one was much more feminine. She wouldn't be required to wear a tie either, which she liked not having to wear, she would wear a silk neck scarf in her house colors. In comparison she liked the more feminine uniform of 1945 then her own uniform. She also wore a pair of black kitten heals, apparently it would look unseemly if she didn't wear them. It was considered improper for a woman of breeding not to be picture perfect everyday.

What she liked most about her old time make over was her hair. It was pinned up in curls, instead of the ponytail she normally wore it in. Her hair was blown back with soft curls that framed her face. She'd used a spell to grow it out too, her hair now reaching her mid back. Dumbledore had given her several fashion magazines from the year and told her to pick someone to model her style after. After several days she finally decided on an American muggle actress, Rita Hayworth, she had Ginny's same facial structure and was very pretty.

She bit her lip as her family finally came into the office. She took a deep breath while she fidgeted nervously. She suddenly felt like a little girl who got caught stealing her brothers broom. Everyone just stood in silence as they looked around at each other confused. No one knew what was going on, they only knew Dumbledore needed them this instant and had not given them any explanation as to why. Everyone stood in silence for a long time, mostly staring at Ginny and wondering why she was dressed in a costume. "Gin, you look breathtaking. Like a doll, an old fashioned doll" Hermione said, cutting the silence. "Gin, what happened to you, you look like you came out of a really old picture." said Ron confused. Ginny swallowed the growing lump in her throat, trying to find her voice.

"Headmaster Dumbledore has been teaching me everything I need to know so I can do my part to end this war" she said, pleased her voice sounded much more confident then she thought it would. No one said anything, waiting for Ginny to explain. Though Molly looked ready to put her foot down right there. Ginny took a small breath, trudging on "I will go back to 1945 to get close to you-kn ... Tom Riddle" she realize that when she arrived in the past he was not Voldemort yet. He was just starting to have fun with the name. Even if he wasn't as bad as he was right now, he was bad enough now to need to be killed. She would be able to do this. She was trained to. She paused for the obligatory shudder before continuing. "And when he lets his guard down, I'll kill him" she said in a nonchalant voice. There was no beating around the bush. She was going to kill him, there was no way to sugar coat that.

All of them looked at her like she was crazy. Everyone remained silent for several seconds. Ginny was certain everyone could hear her heart pounding in the silence, then chaos rang out, and everyone started screaming and yelling at once. Everyone seemed to be yelling about how there was no way Ginny was going do this, there had to be some other way. With everyone yelling she could not quite make out what anyone really was saying. Harry was the loudest of all, surprisingly out yelling Molly, though that didn't make his words any clearer.

Finally everyone seemed to realize yelling at once would do no good and stopped talking so Molly could say her opinion first. "Albus you will not use my daughter to fight this war! We want You-Know-Who dead as much as anyone else, considering all the family member's we've lost. But you will not add Ginny to that list!" Molly screamed at the Headmaster, who looked wholly unaffected. "She is just a little girl and will not be participating in any of your schemes!" She snapped, her hands on her hips, ignoring the twins who said in unison "She's seventeen" Ginny sent them a thankful smile, walking over to them. She tuned out her mother's ranting and raving, throwing her arms around her brothers. "I'm going to miss you two" She said, her voice cracking slightly, the finality of this sinking in.

"We're going to miss you too Gin Bug" Fred's lips were pressed up against her ear so she could hear him with out him having to scream over his mother. Her four other brothers, her father, Harry and Hermione all seemed oblivious to the three Weasley siblings in the back of the office, focused on trying to help Molly make her point to Dumbledore. "Be safe okay Gin?" George asked, holding his baby sister to his chest so she wouldn't see the tear slide down his cheek. "I will, I promise guys" she said in an equally sad voice. She was pretty sure these two were the only ones she would truly miss. "How long do you think you'll be gone Gin?" Fred asked when they broke the hug, looking down at their sister. "I don't know" she said with a sad smile, she couldn't lie to them anymore. "Don't tell anyone else, but I may not come back." The heart broken look on their faces was almost enough to make her rethink her mission. "There is no guarantee the ritual will actually work to send me back... I may be stuck in 1945... If I do get stuck there I'd be 63 right now... If I do get stuck back there I'll stop by your shop soon. I promise" she said with a halfhearted smile. "I love you both! I'll be safe, I promise!" She said, giggling when Fred picked her up and the three of them sat down on a large arm chair, Ginny snuggled into both of them. She couldn't help but smile, remembering when she used to sit on them like this all the time when she was little.

It took almost an hour before Dumbledore simply waved his wand putting everyone except Ginny and the twins into a full body bind. "She will be going, and she will return to a safe world." Dumbledore said in almost a commanding voice that left no room for argument.

Ginny walked to where her trunk was, in the middle of a white circle on the floor. Dumbledore took a bowl filled with black leaves that looked like they were burned. He sprinkled them over the white circle, chanting some words in a language she didn't understand. "Ms. Weasley here is the packet of information about you for the school. All information on your grades. Also you will be known as Ginerva Warchol. Because there are many Weasley at Hogwarts, even in 1945," he said with a laugh and a wink of his eye, as if he was making some hilarious joke. He handed her a silver goblet with a green chunky liquid in it, white smoke flowing over the brim. She couldn't help but think it looked a little over dramatic, even for Dumbledore.

She held on the trunk, tipping the goblet up until the potion slid down her throat. It took all of her control not to vomit the gross liquid all over the floor. She couldn't understand why they couldn't manage to make potions taste better, though nothing really could be done for the chunky texture. She clamped her eyes closed, feeling a strange tightening in her chest. She collapsed on the floor, the color draining from her face. She started convulsing on the floor, her mouth open in a silent scream as she tried desperately to ease the tight coiling in her chest. The trunk and Ginny fading away quickly, leaving nothing but an empty white circle.

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><p>When she opened her eyes, she was standing in the Headmaster's office. For a second she thought the ritual had not worked until she heard a voice speaking "Ah, Ms. Warchol, you've arrived," she turned around, realizing that she was standing in the office of Headmaster Dippet. A much younger Dumbledore stood behind him. She smiled politely. "Hello headmaster, here are my records. "she said, handing him the packet of information Dumbledore had given her. She was not worried about keeping her story straight if they asked her questions. She repeated it enough times to be able to say it quite normally." The Head Boy, Mr. Riddle, will be here in a few moments, once he gives you a tour of the castle you will be sorted into a house with the first years. " Dippet said softly. "You are sixteen, but will be seventeen this month. We will put you in seventh year. Your grades are good, I do not doubt you'll be able to fit in with your classmates." He rambled, as if he was giving her some prestigious honor. She had been told to expect this, Dippet was well known for fawning over Pureblooded students.<p>

Ginny smiled politely, reaching her arm out over her trunk, a long green snake slithering up her arm. "This is my familiar Nygin" she said softly, watching the headmaster coil away the slightest bit in fear. She had actually not chosen the name. After the chamber incident she had discovered she could speak to snakes. Nygin had told Ginny what her name was, Ginny thought it was appropriate. If you rearranged the letters in Ginny you got Nygin. Although Ginny couldn't help but wonder if perhaps her own companion was related to Voldemort's familiar Nagini, they looked strikingly similar.

She could not remember how she had procured the gift. She chalked it up to dealing directly with Riddle's soul. She was thankful that was the only side effect she seemed to have. Though she really had no idea what happened. She did not remember much about her encounter with Riddle. The things she did remember gave her nightmares. Whenever she tried to remember what happened she came up against a block, a giant wall blocking off a portion of her mind. No matter how hard she tried to remove the block she couldn't. It left her exhausted and magically drained. She had spoken to Professor Dumbledore about it once, he had gotten this strange look in his eyes and just said it was her mind trying to protect her from the horrors she endured from Riddle.

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><p>Pale fingers caressed the stone walls as a Hogwarts student walked down the corridors. Most had already gathered in the Great Hall and were buzzing with excitement at the approaching sorting ceremony. The sorting ceremony was always an exciting time for students. It marked the beginning of a new school year and for the first years it was their first taste of magic at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The only person that found the ceremony to be dull was the handsome boy that appeared now to be whispering to the walls. No one was around to hear his whispers and they wouldn't understand them even if they were. With a gentle pat against the stone the conversation Tom was having with his precious heirloom was ended and he was left truly alone in the corridors. He padded across to the window and gazed outward. It was raining outside, a dark gloomy night, and his favorite kind of weather.<p>

"Tom!" A voice called. God, how he hated to hear that name.

The dark haired boy turned to face the figures that approached him. One was tall and lean with a slouch in his posture that made his lithe frame appear more awkward than it should. Tom had once tried to correct that fault in Deliro Lestrange but failed to make good posture of any importance to the strange, shaggy boy. His green and silver striped tie hung around his neck loosely and as he approached, Tom reached out and tightened it to the point of choking. Lestrange coughed and then loosened it slightly, offering Tom an apologetic smile.

"It's all set up." Randall Nott said, already adjusting his own tie in order to avoid the same fate as Deliro. He smoothed back his dirty blond hair and then rubbed at his nose. Randall was the sort of boy that was always dirty, for no reason other than he was just a messy boy. He annoyed Tom more than any of his other followers and as Tom looked between the two boys he wondered where the others were. It was difficult to keep up sometimes, there were so many.

"Guys, I'm worried." Charles said from behind Deliro, who turned around and gave him a hard shove to silence him. It wasn't so much the shove that made Charles quiet but the wild look that Deliro always seemed to have in his eyes. He wasn't the delicate type or the subtle type. Charles didn't seem convinced by the act however and instead was looking around the tall, skinny boy at Tom, his eyed pleading for comfort. Tom couldn't help but wonder; why must everyone be so weak?

"You won't get caught, Charles." Tom said in a gentle tone. "I've taken care of it. We never get caught." Almost immediately Charles relaxed. If Tom told the short fifth year that the sky were truly purple he would believe him. He smiled a small, halfhearted smile at the boy he believed so well and then fidgeted with the bottom of his sweater before Tom cleared his throat. When Charles looked up Tom flicked his fingers at him to signal for him to shoo and Charles immediately scuttled away. Tom watched him go and then started down the corridor with Nott and Lestrange trailing after him.

"I still don't see why you didn't just let me hex the books." Randall said, slipping his hands deep into the pockets of his pants. Tom didn't need to acknowledge the comment; Deliro was already doing that for him. "Don't be stupid, Randall. If they figure it out they'll know who hexed the books." The lanky boy said with an incredulous voice. "I thought we never get caught." Nott countered

"Exactly, Nott. We never do." Tom answered coolly. At that the two boys laughed. Nott's laugh was the sort of grunting thing that you'd expect from someone as dim as him but Lestrange's laugh was more raspy and quite pleasant to listen to if truth be told. Of the two, he preferred Lestrange for company. The boy was fairly quick of wit but believed that he and Tom were thick as thieves. Let him. He could use a slightly broken mind like that on his side. There was no telling what Deliro would do, but he knew that there was nothing Deliro wouldn't do if Tom asked. Deliro Lestrange. He supposed that the brute might be the closest thing he had to a friend, though he didn't really know what having a friend was like. Nott on the other hand was about as quick as a block of wood, yet he proved useful at times, which was the only reason Tom still kept him around.

The three boys reached a fork in the corridors and while Nott and Lestrange began to go one way, Tom started down another. The two boys stopped and their tracks and looked behind them at their leader who was sauntering off away from them. They looked at each other and then Deliro called out to Tom.

"You're not coming to the Great Hall with us?" He called. Tom responded by waving to them absently over his shoulder. He didn't have much patience for his so-called "friends". Tom was the sort, who preferred solitude to companionship, but of course that wasn't normal for a boy his age and so he needed to laugh and joke with these boys and publicly display that he enjoyed their company even if truth was that the sight of them made him groan. Most of his life he had been trying to emulate the way that other boys his age behaved, but it became so difficult when one learned that they all behaved like savages. They were so crude, so dense, so unbelievably human... It was nauseating. He wasn't sorry to be rid of them, even if it did mean being the Headmaster's pet for yet another evening of his life.

"Headmaster," Tom said warmly, nodding politely to Headmaster Dippet. Tom had slipped into the office, almost unnoticed. Almost. Dumbledore's beady eyes had been on him the moment his foot had entered the room. He disliked the professor, mostly because he was the only one in the school that hadn't been won over by Tom's charm. There was something he saw when he looked at Tom that didn't sit well with the dark boy, something he had seen the night that the useless little mudblood had died. Tom had often wondered at what it had been. What mistake had he made? What crack had been in his mask? Whatever the professor had seen it had kept those beady eyes of his glued to Tom's back since that night. It was the only thing that gave him unease.

"Ah, Tom!" The Headmaster said. He moved to Tom's side and placed a wrinkled hand on the boy's shoulder. Tom resisted the urge to move away from the old man's touch, keeping his face perfectly composed and smooth.

"Professor," Tom said, nodding to Dumbledore. There was the slightest hint of ice in his tone as he greeted the Professor but if the old man noticed it, he didn't show it. Instead he smiled politely and then gestured to the red haired girl before them. "Tom, this is Ginerva Warchol, our new student." It was at this point that the Headmaster stepped in. Not to have his official duties taken over by a Professor. "Miss Warchol, this is Tom Riddle." Headmaster Dippet said, gesturing expressively to Tom.

Ginny stood up politely when he came into the room, turning to face him. She swallowed hard, he looked just like she remembered. An instant sensation of loathing washed over her as he extended his hand to her. She took a deep breath before taking his hand, only touching his hand for a millisecond "Pleasure Mr. Riddle" she said in a carefully manicured tone, only letting a tiny bit of frost color his name. She was sure from her training that Dippet would never notice subtle changes in tone. Though by the curious look from Dumbledore she could tell he did notice, not that she minded, she doubted anyone Riddle might consider a friend was actually one hundred percent polite with him.

Nygin shot out a few inches toward Tom, her tongue flickering in and out as she smelled the air around Tom. "So you're the one Mistress tells me of. You smell of the ancient one" she hissed at Tom. "Nygin, leave him alone" Ginny said in English, she didn't need Tom to know she was a Parsletongue just yet. She especially didn't need Dumbledore knowing she could speak either, it was considered a very dark gift and Dumbledore in her own time didn't know she could speak to snakes.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Tom said, stepping forward and extending his hand, pleased to be relieved of the old fart's touch. The girl looked almost, apprehensive about shaking his hand. Was she shy? Oh, please don't let her be another one of those girls that found him handsome. What was the point of being considered good looking anyway? Finally though, she shook his hand and greeted him in return. With the introductions out of the way, Headmaster Dippet sent the two off on their way. He had to hurry himself as sorting would begin soon enough.

The two walked down the corridor and Tom eyed the girl out of the corner of his eye. Good looking, sufficient posture, calm expression. She seemed alright, but there was something he noted in the way she walked with him. She walked with a strange dignity to herself that was uncommon to see in someone in a new environment. She walked with purpose, as though she belonged here. He did notice Ginny didn't bother to look around the castle all that much. Occasionally her gaze would fall on a portrait or a statue, but she didn't marvel at the castle the way the first years did. It was like she... like she'd been here before.

"You'll be sorted along with the first years after we enter the Great Hall." Tom said conversationally. "Unfortunately you'll be the only one older than eleven there. It's not quite often that students transfer to Hogwarts from other Institutions." He explained. Another moment of silence. "What school did you previously study at?" He asked. In truth, Tom couldn't care less where this girl had come from or where she was going for that matter. However, it was normal to converse with people when alone with them. It was normal to have intrigue about a new student. It was normal to want to talk to a good looking girl. That was Tom's life. Trying to be normal. Trying to fit in. Trying to act as if he didn't wish half the students of this school were cold and in the ground, like his disgusting muggle father. Absently, Tom fiddled with the ring on his finger while he waited for the girl to answer him.

Ginny resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew all about the way he fought to seem normal and she could certainly tell that he was trying to probe her to see what material she was. Was she a follower or a threat? She would never be a follower, not even for her mission. She would make herself a threat to him. Sooner or later he'd get tired of fighting a war against her that he couldn't win. Sure, he was strong magically but she was strong too. She'd never be able to beat him completely, but she felt confidant that he could not beat her either. Sooner or later he'd get sick of fighting her, he'd want her as an ally, she'd make sure of it.

"I was schooled at home by private tutors. My Papa did not want me associating with undesirables." she said in a dignified tone, making her tone as close to Malfoy's, if anyone was a good example of pureblood snobbery it was a Malfoy. "The only reason I am here is because of the trouble Grindelwald is causing in Eastern Europe right now." she said "I do apologize Mr. Riddle, but I have no interest in small talk" she said in a lilting tone, offering him a smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

She held back a sigh of relief when the reached the Great Hall and she could see all the first years leading into the side room behind a Professor she did not recognize from the back. "It was a pleasure, thank you for the escort" she said in a soft voice. "Perhaps I will see you later" she did not wait for a response as she walked off toward the first years.

Tom lingered where Ginevra left him for a moment, watching her saunter down the walkway left for first years and admired the way she strode through them all. They were beneath her, that much was obvious from her strut as was the fact that she felt like she was meant to be walking here, as though that walkway were made just for her. Such a strange girl, so confident and quick of tongue. She had no problem brushing Tom aside and though it ought to enrage him to be treated as such, he couldn't bring himself to dislike her for it.

Finally, there was someone who seemed to hate the incompetence of her fellow peers as much as he did. Stifling a smirk, Tom found his seat at the Slytherin table and watched Avery and Rosier bully their way into sitting next to him. Immediately, Tom was aware of the absence of certain members of his circle. Inwardly he cursed their existences and willed them, silently, into obedience. If they were doing anything that could jeopardize Tom's position and favor within the faculty, he would make sure they rued the day. Was it too much to ask to have just one competent follower? They needn't be powerful or particularly bright. He just wanted someone who could follow the simplest of orders without irritating him.

When the Professor turned around Ginny almost wanted to turn around and leave, it was Slughorn again. Hopefully he'd leave her alone in this era, she did not want to be the focus of another Slug Club party. "Professor, my name is..." She never finished as Slughorn rounded on her, his chin fat giggling enough to make her want to gag. God, she didn't think it was possible for the Slughorn she learned from to be the slim version. "Ah yes! You must be Ms. Warchol, our new student! Come come, you'll be sorted before all the first years. You'll be quite the talk of the school, it's been a very long time since we've had someone join our family this late in their education..." Ginny tuned him out, not wanting to hear his blathering.

"Good evening everyone, this year we have a new student joining our seventh year class. She is a student from an influential family from Poland. Her name is Ginevra Warchol, please make her feel at home and do not bother her with to many questions." She entered the Great Hall gracefully when she heard the announcement. "Ms. Warchol" Dippet motioned to the stool in front of the staff table. She could hear the whispers run through the students, most of what she heard amused her. Mudbloods whispering about her being a Grindelwald supporter, something about Poland being his biggest support base. It would make the rest of the school leave her alone, and the Slytherins want to be near her. It was perfect. She sat on the stool, feeling the hat being placed on her head.

Tom was starting to get more then annoyed with the two idiots perched on either side of him, hissing in his ear about the fresh crop of students. Tom was about ready to kill them both. Perhaps he'd set them on fire, right here, in front of everyone. He'd hoist them into the air and leave them to burn to death and let everyone see it. The thought almost made a smile come to his face, but he resisted the temptation to openly revel in the idea of his "friends" deaths and instead tried to focus on the sorting ceremony.

"Hear that, Tom? Poland."

"Yes, thank you, Leonard. My hearing is just fine." Tom said coolly. Avery offered a weak smile and then turned back to watch the redhead get sorted. Tom eyed her as well. It was clear around the Slytherin table that those of high birth were taking interest in the pure blood from Poland. Those members of the house of his ancestor were quick to notice the haughty superiority they exuded in someone else and Miss Warchol was practically alight with it, the glow casting a shadow over everyone else in the room.

"Ah, Ms. Weasley" the hat's old voice rang through her mind. Though her face showed no indication she was worried, or even heard a voice, a panic gripped her soul. "Do not concern yourself, who would I tell your secrets to? It's all here in your head." She wasn't sure if she was able to trust a hat. But she would deal with that when the time came. "While what you intend to do is admiral it also sends a darkness into your soul. You no longer fit into Goderic's house, and while your Loyalty would be smiled upon by Helga's children you are not suited there either." Ginny absently stroked Nygin while she waited for the stupid old hat to tell her which house she would be stuck in. "You have a brilliant mind, but not suitable for Rowena's home." she sighed softly, "BE DONE!" she screamed in her mind, her face never changing. "SLYTHERIN!" The hat rang out, sounding slightly annoyed. When she was sorted into the Slytherin house, the table clapped, some more enthusiastically than others. Tom didn't clap very enthusiastically. He clapped only because it was expected of him. She stood up gliding over to the clapping Slytherin table.

She took an empty seat across from Riddle, recognizing many of the people around her. "Hi, I'm Eileen Prince" A raven haired girl beside her said with a warm smile. Ginny shook her hand easily, smiling as she recognized Snape's mother. "It's very nice to meet you Eileen" Ginny said softly. "This is Abraxas Malfoy, Leonard Avery, Albert Rosier, and that is Orion Black" she said pointing at the four boys by them. "Lestrange, Mulciber, Dolohov, and Nott are not here yet. Probably had to stop by the common room or something. And of course, this is Tom Riddle" she said in a dreamy voice as she introduced Tom.

"Mr. Riddle and I have met" she said in an uninterested tone. "Pleasure to meet you gentleman" she said turning her attention to the four men she was introduced to just now. "Please call me Ginny." she said softly. Ginevra was a very common name for rich purebloods, but it was terribly formal. She would only force Riddle to call her that, a sign that she was uninterested in his friendship.

Her icy tone did not escape his notice. He had said nothing that would offend her. In fact he had been more pleasant to her than he was to most people. Was she trying to impress him with her heightened sense of superiority? Was she looking to get under his skin or seek his attention? Her tone suggested a preordained dislike for him and yet they had only just met moments ago. What an arrogant, prickly girl. Not nearly as sweet as her innocent, round face suggested. How... interesting.

Tom watched her from where he sat across the table. Such arrogance must have power behind it, an interesting prospect that made Tom pay closer attention to her, his gaze falling to the snake in her lap. What was it that she had said to him in the Headmaster's office?

He smelled like the ancient one.

What did that mean? If he could get her snake alone, or even mildly close, perhaps he could find out.

Ginny smiled politely, looking at each person she had been introduced to, committing their faces and names to memory. It was much easier to pretend to be from this era when not looking at Tom. His face brought up so many feelings from a different time, he looked the same and yet she knew they were two different entities. The Tom who tortured and possessed her was a memory, a hollow shell of the man before her.

The thought of the chamber, or of Tom in general, made her want to lash out at him. She had jumped at the chance to take is mission for Dumbledore. She wanted the opportunity to kill him, take her revenge and watch the light leave his eyes. But when she thought about it, it was something she sometimes hesitated about, but she chalked it up to having to commit such a violent act.

Eileen Prince. She was Snape's mother, a member of a prestigious and long standing pureblood family. That was really all she knew about the girl. But that's all she needed to know really, she was the kind of girl that would be good to associate with. It would help her keep up the snobbish pureblood pretense, at least until she ran off with that filthy muggle. But that wouldn't be for another yer.

Ginny mentally shook herself, a bit startled by her own thoughts. There was nothing wrong with muggles, they were below them. No. They were just people. "Eileen darling" she said in a mild polish accent, thanking the heavens for vocal charms. She carried herself softly, she had spent long enough studying women from 1945 she was certain she could pass herself off as demure and poise in public while still being strong and cunning. "Since I am new to this academy you must simply tell me everything about everything." She said softly.

She purposefully angled her body away from Tom, not directly, but she was sure he would pick up on the subtlety of her body language. When it came to the art of masking ones emotions and creating a false mask Tom was the best, and she had learned from him. If he hang thought her those skills she would never have been able to hide the chamber incident as long as she had. She focused her attentions on Elieen and Abraxas Malfoy. She vaguely remembered Tom saying something about the man, but she could not remember if it was positive or negative. So much of that year was a fog.

Tom became instantly uninterested in the rest of the evenings events once the redhead was seated. He clapped only occasionally when a Slytherin was sorted and that was primarily because the student would be a relative of an existing member of his house. It was polite. Tom had spent his whole wizarding career trying to be polite. It had gotten him far. He was the darling of every class, the favorite of every teacher, and the glint in every girl's eye. He had charmed, wheedled, manipulated and worked for what he had accomplished but it still didn't feel like much of anything. Was he not still flesh and bone? Was he not still mere mortal? What made him so special?

He was expected to feel pride at the fact that he had been named Head Boy. He was expected to feel humbled by being the top of every class. He was expected to feel honored that he was so well respected and admired by both faculty and classmates. He played the part well, smiling when he needed to and showing the appropriate emotion when it was required. All that he truly felt, was disgust that this incompetent crop of witches and wizards were unable to achieve these honors themselves. It hadn't been particularly hard, but the other witches and wizards at this institution seemed distracted by other things. He supposed that they were too caught up in who was snogging with whom. How trivial. How... human.

He hated them for their humanity, for their longings and their wants. He hated them for their desires and their passiveness. He hated them for their acceptance of their own circumstance. They were all more than happy to wish Tom congratulations for his accomplishments and yet none of them cared enough to make those achievements their own. He had risen above them all and proved his worth in this school, but he still felt hollow. All that he had done, all that he had accomplished and yet he still felt an emptiness within himself. An emptiness that had sung to the heavens when he had made that diary. He remembered the day clearly in his mind, how his heart had stopped within his chest and he had felt like he was being ripped apart by invisible hands. It had been excruciating, and yet he had been hungry for more. Just as his classmates long to skip lessons, eat sweets and kiss pretty girls, Tom had longed to wave his wand and utter that beautiful curse. As he thought of it, a tiny smile curled his lip as he twirled the ring on his finger and stared off into the distance. His fingers danced across the black, diamond shaped stone and twisted the gold band round and round as his eyes became vacant. He could feel that piece of him, somewhere else far off. He could feel it missing from him and if it was somewhere else than maybe he could return to it. Maybe he'd always be able to return to it...

"Hey, Tom, could you pass the..." Leonard began, shaking Tom from his train of thought. His smile fell and the look he cast onto the boy beside him was a deadly one. Leonard's face crumpled and he pretended not to feel his left toe breaking as he bit into his bottom lip. It was reset an instant later and Tom, with the utmost grace, passed the bread rolls, knowing exactly what he wanted, to his friend who took them with shaking hands and a sheepish glance. He may hate them, but he knew them well. His wand he slipped back into the pocket of his robes with smooth elegance that none would see. Truthfully, Tom had not even been aware that the feast had begun. He scooped a bit of food onto his plate and began to pick at it while Albert muttered into his ear about the common room party that had been set up by some of the ladies of House Slytherin. Tom made a mental note to thank those particular girls later on in the evening. Such niceties were expected of him after all, so much was expected of him, so much he expected of himself.

Nygin hung loosely on Ginny's shoulder, eating the occasional beef piece Ginny was feeding her absentmindedly. Her beady black eyes never leaving Tom's face. "You better be careful around him mistress, he smells like trouble." Nygin hissed her warning again. Ginny gave no outward notice that she had understood her, simply continued petting her. Honestly, Nygin shouldn't worry so much. Ginny could handle one little boy.

The feast ended soon enough. Ginny almost enjoyed herself. Gryffindore had never been this welcoming, and she would be lying if she was not looking forward to the party tonight. "Any special reason for throwing a party?" Ginny asked Eileen, careful to keep Tom in the corner of her eye. She learned her lesson the hard way about turning her back completely to him. Just thinking about it she could feel his magic twisting her body, that horrible curse settling every nerve on fire in her skin. She shivered, shoving those thoughts as far down as she could.

"We throw one every year, a sort of welcome to Slytherin kind of thing." Eileen said, setting her napkin down on her plate as Ginny had done. Ginny was surprised, there was no welcome to Gryffindor party when she started, or any year there after. They sometimes threw parties of sorts, but that was only after a quiddich win, and that was more like a bunch of people standing around with butter beer. "How charming" she said as she watched all the Slytherin's pair off. Each girl was escorted by a gentleman of their year. At first she thought it was just the era, true gentleman were such a dying breed in her own time. But she noticed only Slytherin seemed to do it. She couldn't help but wonder why.

"Well, that sounds lovely. Would you mind showing me to our dormitory? I believe you are going to be my roommate. I would like to freshen up quickly." Ginny said, glancing at Tom with a false smile on her face. "Oh Mr. Riddle, I nearly forgot you there." She said in a sweet tone as manufactured as her smile, though no one but Tom seemed to notice. "Will you be joining in the festivities?" She asked feigning innocence.

She wondered how much under his skin she could get before their little war would explode. She almost salivated at the chance for revenge, she hoped she could get close to him rather quickly. It would be so much easier to kill him if she was close to him. Se heard Harry use a muggle phrase once. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

After spending the evening tiptoeing around discussion and avoiding direct interaction with others it was finally time for the feast to be over. Yet, Tom was still dreading the remainder of the evening. He lifted himself from his seat and prepared to leave the Great Hall and still there had been no sign of Tom's four lackeys. Avery and Rosier were relishing the chance to have Tom's ear but Tom was otherwise distracted and completely disinterested. He didn't care if Penny had been winking at Albert all night, just like he didn't care about Leonard's opinion of the Polish girl. All he could think of was how many times he'd carve his name into the bellies of those fools if they did anything that would get them into trouble. Tom rarely did the dirty work himself, as to avoid implication, but he made sure to always cover the tracks of those who did. He was clever, more so than most, even some teachers. But with them off gallivanting off on their own, who knows what kind of foul ups might occur.

As Tom readied himself to offer his arm to someone, Ginevra addressed him. There was something off about her tone when she spoke to him, as though she was trying too hard to sound pleasant. Her smile was forced and he wondered if she did that intentionally, mocking him with her false face. He had given her no reason to dislike him so and he found himself searching his carefully constructed mask for faults or cracks. Why did this girl dislike him so? He had girls trying to be impartial towards him before in an attempt to lure him in but that never worked. Tom actually liked to be ignored but this girl wasn't ignoring him, she was making a show of her disdain. Why?

"Of course." Tom answered pleasantly. There was no forcing his polite demeanor, he had practiced it well. There was nothing rude or sarcastic in his reply because he simply did not know how to respond to the girl before him. Were that she a male, he'd break her toes too and be done with it but she was a lady and certain things were expected of him, as they always were. Since breaking her toes was not an option, however, he would have to settle for a different solution, if only he could figure out the problem.

"Tom's Head Boy." Eileen said, looking from Tom to Ginevra. "Of course he'll be there." Eileen fancied Tom much the same way the other girls did. When given the opportunity she would flirt but she was not brave enough to seek him out on her own. "Will dance this time, Tom?" Eileen asked him, batting her eyelashes. Tom resisted the urge to strike her.

Ginny bit her tongue to keep herself from rolling her eyes and chastising Eileen. The girl had such wonderful potential until she went and made love sick eyes at Tom. Sure, he was beyond handsome. But surely she could not be so blind as not to see the cruel and heartless man he was. No one who was in his circle, or even his little group of followers could entertain the idea of him being the kind loving type. He was harsh, cruel and overbearing. That was Tom Riddle, but his personality was ugly enough to override his outward beauty.

"Eileen, dear, wouldn't it be prudent to allow Mr. Riddle a chance to answer?" She asked, genuinely confused why Eileen thought she was in a position to answer for him. She paused for a second, not sure why that was what bothered her about that statement. But it had already come out of her mouth, and there was no taking it back now. "Surely being Head Boy does not require him to attend such events" she said in a carefully crafted confused face, looking from Tom to Eileen.

"Perhaps." He answered with a small smile. Eileen giggled and Tom turned to the redheaded girl beside her. Others around them were pairing up and preparing to file out of the Great Hall and Tom decided to follow in suite. "May I have your arm?" He asked Ginevra politely, offering out his arm for her to take. Part of him wondered if she would be brash enough to reject him, part of him actually expected it. Tom did not fully understand the bizarre need for affection or companionship and so he had difficulty grasping the workings of the female mind when it came to approaching males. From what he understood though, that was common for boys his age and so he didn't wonder at it too much. He was suave enough without understanding each boring detail about women. However, if this was a ruse to capture his attention, it was the best one he'd seen so far because she had his attention. Quite curiously, in fact.

She shook herself from her thoughts when Tom spoke to her. She offered him the same polite smile she had before. She was half tempted to refuse him. But being out right rude would not serve her purpose. She was quite sure no one but him could see her disdain for him, and she intended to keep it that was. She could tell Eileen thought she was friendly enough with Tom, and if the looks Malfoy was shooting her, so did he.

"I would be delighted Mr. Riddle" she said. She gently linked her arm with his, resting her hand on his forearm. "So, Abraxas you were telling me about a weekend later this month when we could visit Hogsmead?" She asked Abraxas. She hid her smirk, perhaps she couldn't be outwardly rude, but being on his arm did not mean she had to pay him any mind. Abraxas seemed to think otherwise, looking at Tom with a worried almost frightened expression. Tom had not escorted a girl in the seven years he had been here that Abraxas had seen. There was never really a need, there were far more boys then there were girls. So with Tom showing any kind of interest, how ever odd it might be, Abraxas wasn't dumb enough to get in his way. "Um... Well... Yeah. I mean I guess." He mumbled, sounding decidedly unMalfoy.

When she accepted his arm, he was almost as surprised as he would have been if she had rejected him. Still her hand fell against his forearm and the other Slytherins made a path so that Tom and Ginevra could walk at the front of the group, as was Tom's usual place. As they passed, with his band following behind, the ladies of Slytherin House shot their new classmate jealous glares. These looks were not lost on Tom, not much was, though he doubted that would cause any problems for the likes of Ginevra. The girl was so prickly, no other would dare come within a foot of her to try and tempt her with taunting. As they began their journey to the common room, the girl on Tom's arm began to make conversation with Abraxas who walked beside them and a little bit behind with Elieen on his arm. Tom didn't like Abraxas. To be fair, he didn't like anyone but at least he disliked some people less than others. Abraxas was not one of those exceptions. The man was all talk. He walked tall and flicked his blond hair around as though he were royalty but with only a look from Tom, he was brought to his knees sniveling. He'd had to put the boy in his place a few times and now Abraxas knew not to stir trouble with him. He tried constantly to get on his good side, to make Tom dislike him a little less, but it never worked. Tom had no use for a cockroach like Abraxas. The cockroach was squirming now though as he debated between disrespecting the girl on Tom's arm or stealing away her attention. Like a good insect, he answered her in stuttered and half-replies before turning away. All this caused by the raising of one perfectly groomed eyebrow on Tom's handsome face. Pathetic.

It took all of her will power not to roll her eyes though she did walk a little farther away from Abraxas when he started stumbling over his words and practically over his own feet as well. How could that pathetic insect have produced anything like Lucius or Draco. Sure they were pompous asses, but she had never seen either of them cower like that. She turned her attention away from Abraxas to Eileen, making small talk about their classes. Occasionally she would answer Tom's questions but only so she didn't appear overtly rude.

The Slytherin's marched their way to the cellars of the castle, headed for the Slytherin common room. Tom led the pack as Head Boy and also the eldest among the Slytherin prefects. He made attempt to have polite conversation with the girl on his arm but she didn't seem much interested in talking to him. He asked her about her classes and what subjects interested her and got his own half-answers in response but these were out of disregard rather than sniveling. Further confused and curious about this girl's motives and interests, Tom faced the Slytherin common room door.

She barely suppressed a smirk, she was certain no one else noticed, but she did. She could read his body language like a large print book. He was confused by her, irritated even, perhaps she was digging her way under his skin a little bit. But most importantly to her, he did not ignore her. He was trying to talk to her. Whether that meant he was trying to measure her she wasn't sure. "Mr. Riddle, you hardly seem one for small talk and yet you persist. I am curious to find why" she said in a gentle tone.

"Pure-blood." Tom said in his clear, crisp voice. The doors swung open to reveal the common room. If there was anywhere in the castle that Tom thought reflected his personality best, aside from his secret chamber, it would be the Slytherin common room. The inside was decorated with green and yellow streamers, the couches and tables had been moved to accommodate dancing and celebratory drinks were lined along the tables. Tom turned to the Slytherin's that were crowded behind him and took his wand out from his robes with his free hand.

"The drinks are only for those in fifth, sixth and seven year. Try to remember that classes begin tomorrow." Tom said to the crowd of Slytherin's. His tone was pleasant, his expression charming. Would anyone here guess that he would love nothing more than to hang them all by their ankles in the dungeons? Obviously none of the friendly peers that groaned in mocking at his rules. "Welcome to Slytherin." With a wave of his wand the record player began to play music through the common room. As the students rushed past Tom into the common room to begin their party he turned to Ginevra. Holding her hand lightly in his he dipped his head slightly and then offered her another tiny smile before walking into the common room himself. There was naught left for him to do. He had been publicly polite and friendly to her. However she chose to behave towards him now, he knew that it was not by his own doing. Such a strange girl. Such an inconvenient girl. Why had he even bothered to go out of his way with her? As he tried to rationalize that it had all been for the sake of keeping appearances, a group of four familiar fingers bumped their way into the common room. Tom's train of thought derailed and he focused instead on more pressing matters, like which one of them he'd burn the ears off of first.

"Ah, our home iss it?" Nygin hissed, surveying the common room. Ginny did smile softly, though it may have been a bit more of a smirk. Now was the time to really start playing head games. She waited a few seconds till everyone was off dancing but Tom was still with in hearing range. "Yess lovely, this is our home for the next year. Go find our roomss" Ginny responded quietly, not looking at Tom, acting as if she thought no one could hear her. "I don't want to leave you alone with him. He smells of the ancient one" Nygin hissed her warning a second time. "Leave now pet, I can handle a little boy" she hissed in response, lowering her arm so Nygin could slither off to find their dormitory.

She turned her attention back to Tom, an innocent smile on her lips. "Well, if you will excuse me?" She asked as she smoothed out her school uniform. His expression wavered, his mask cracking. When she looked back at him with her innocent eyes she was met with white hot rage. How dare she.

Angry. That was the best way to describe how he felt about it. He was angry. Mere mortal yes, but a great mortal nonetheless. Not only had this girl showed him how out of tune he was with his mask of social normalcy but she had also robbed him of the one thing that made him better than all the others. He was different. He could talk to snakes. They found him on those lonely days that he spent at the park and in the country. He would sit by himself in the field and wait and they would come to him. They would whisper in his ear and tell him about the world. They were his friends, and his alone and now she had robbed him of that. No longer could he believe himself to be different. He was just like all the others. He was just like his... No. He wouldn't be like her. He wouldn't let himself be overcome by something as trivial as death and he certainly wouldn't let his mind be consumed by a silly little girl.

"I believe I will find my dormitory to freshen up quickly before truly joining in the festivities." She said moving away from him only to have Eileen grab her other arm. "I'll show you where it is Ginny!" She said practically bouncing up and down. Ginny tried to look pleased, but she found herself wanting to hex this girl nine ways to hell the more time she spent in her presence. "Thank you Eileen" she said in a manicured polite voice.

"Oh my goodness, you have no idea how lucky you are!" She said going in to detail about how every girl was so jealous of her for walking with Tom. Ginny suppressed a smirk, giving Eileen a confused look. "Honestly, I don't see why. He does not seem all that extraordinary" she said amused by the scandalized look on the girls faces who heard her. She couldn't help but wonder if Tom could hear her. Oh yes. She was enjoying this.


	2. Nothing Stays Buried Forever

Summary:

The war was not going well, in fact, Dumbledore and his army were losing badly. They needed a secret weapon. But they could not change current events. Or could they? That thought sparked a brilliant idea. Send someone back to a time to kill Tom Riddle before he can become Voldemort. But who should they send? They needed someone they knew he would let into his circle of close followers. The person also had to be someone they never thought would turn against them. The only person that matched that was Ginny. She would never turn on Harry or her family. What happens if she goes back, and instead of killing Tom, she falls in love with him. After all, he was seventeen when he controlled her with the diary. What can she do when faced with the man she was in love with when eleven years. Feelings as strong as that never truly leave you. What if she does not kill him, but comes back as his evil queen?

Authors note:

Here is chapter two! I'm glad you like it so far. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. I shall post chapter three tomorrow.

Disclaimer:

I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. Face it, if I did I am sure it would not have turned out nearly as well as what came out of J.K's mind. Lol, it would have been a dark book, and old Dumbles would have died in book one... Anyway... Onto the story!

Story: Mislead Loyalties

Chapter: Nothing stays buried forever.

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><p>Ginny disappeared up the stairs with Eileen, heading for her dormitory. She needed to change quickly and come back down. It wouldn't be socially appropriate if she missed the first party with her new companions. She wondered how much Tom was seething<p>

She waited till she was alone in the loo, throwing silencing spells up before she burst out laughing. Oh how she wished she had a camera. The look on his face had been priceless! She would never find words to describe how she felt knowing she had caused his mask to break so horribly. Sure, many people in the future had come under Voldemort's rage. But Tom Riddle was another story. He was far more controlled, he had to keep up a pretense that Voldemort did not. She was quite certain no one had seen Tom Riddle as mad as she had down stairs and she drank it in like the most luxurious power boost.

She knew she had just upped her little game a bit quickly, but he might have gotten suspicious if Nygin had kept talking to her as if she was expecting a response and Ginny never gave her one. She spent ten minutes in the loo, laughing so hard tears spilled from her eyes. She finally pulled herself together, using a quick charm to remove any trace of her moist eyes.

She quickly touched up her hair, changing from her school uniform into a green silk sundress. A pair of pearl earrings and a silver necklace finished off the outfit nicely. She looked herself over in the mirror, quite pleased with the look. Dumbledore had spared no expense on her possessions. She had to play the daughter of a wealthy pureblood man and had to look the part. She slipped on some strappy black heals before walking back into the common room.

She looked around for someone to talk to. She wondered who she should become close with in order to stay close by Tom. Eileen was out. At first she seemed like a good choice, but honestly the girl's sickening lust for Tom was to much to handle. Abraxas might have worked if he wasn't such a cowardly bug. Honestly he was pathetic.

She went to the table with drinks, picking up a goblet of red wine. She swayed softly to the music, humming the tune. This had been one of the music pieces she had studied in preparation for this mission. It was one of her favorites. It brought a happy feeling, as if it was attached to a memory, but she was quite certain she'd never heard it before.

* * *

><p>"Tom, we settled it." Deliro said as he the boys circled around Tom, like moths to a flame. Right now, Tom was feeling particularly heated.<p>

"Yeah, we squared it all up with Charles." Nott added in. Dolohov and Mulciber were the more intelligent of the bunch and opted for silence. They watched Deliro and Randall with apprehensive looks as they measured the expression on Tom's face. Wisely, they inched back a few steps.

"Did you?" Tom retorted, his tone positively deadly.

"We just thought, since you found him so annoying..." Nott began, mumbling his words quietly.

"I don't much care about what you thought, Randall." He sensed them all stiffen as he coolly contemplated his cup. "This will be the first and last warning for all of you." He said slowly. The boys relaxed slightly. "Do I make myself clear?" They chorused their obedient replies and Tom kept his eyes on the dance floor. Finally, after what seemed to the others like eternity, he turned around and looked at them. They all flinched at his gaze.

"Nott, go ask Claudette to dance with you." He didn't bother to explain that the girl had been eyeballing him from across the room since he entered it. He didn't need to. Randall nodded obediently and hurried off to find the irritating girl.

"Nigel, stay here." He turned to Deliro and Dolohov and waved his hand absently. "And I don't care what you two do." They knew that the subtext of that was for them to make themselves scarce. And they did. Deliro and Geoffrey hurried off to busy themselves with drinks, girls and whatever else they could find to amuse themselves. Geoffrey often took to finding some poor girl to torment. The girls fancied him, he was a good looking, wealthy wizard after all, but how he meddled with their minds. He found amusement in it, the suffering of others.

"Now, Nigel." He said, turning back to the party while Mulciber stood beside him, facing him slightly. "Tell me what you did." Nigel was the most like Tom of all of them. He put on a very cold front, so much so that it made him a known character in the Slytherin house. The girls were afraid of him and the teachers overlooked him because he was so stoic but Tom saw him for what he was. He was cruel, mean, and doing everything he could to pretend like he cared about anything. Tom would have liked him the best, if it weren't for the fact that his cruel nature made him a little difficult to predict. Tom didn't like unpredictability. He liked obedience. He liked control.

Nigel had finished explaining the situation to him and been sent off on yet another mission. The fools. They had shaken down the poor boy and scared him silly. Charles was too frightened to even attend the party this evening after all that they had said and done to him. Didn't they know through their own experience that this was not the way that Tom found his followers. Tom was a charming boy, quick of wit with a tongue of velvet. He had a disturbing ability to dazzle any that he needed into submission. Many of the boys currently part of his circle were drawn to him simply for that fact. He offered them protection, he offered them position and more than anything he offered them a chance to become more than what they were. Among all of them only Mulciber and Lestrange seemed interested in that last benefit, which is why he trusted them the most. It was Mulciber alone that he sent off to deal with Charles because, similar to Tom, Nigel had the ability to put on a mask of charm and caring. He would be able to calm Charles, and thereby make him less likely to panic and crack under the pressure of what he had done. The last thing Tom needed was Dumbledore catching wind of this.

Dumbledore... Merlin's beard, how he hated that man.

"Oh, Tom. Won't you dance?" Amaris said to him, her flock of hens circling around her like a farmer with feed. Amaris was a pretty girl. She was in his year and the envy of most of the girls in the school. She was a beautiful girl. With jet black hair and naturally red lips. There was no innocence or wholesomeness to her face, unlike the redhead, her features were vampy and mature. Her pure blood and wealth showed in everything that she did. However, she was dull. There was no glint in her eye, like those of that Polish girl, no ice or challenge in that airy tone of hers. She was just a girl, like every other one at this institution. Well... Tom's eyes flicked over to Ginevra, standing alone, and felt his anger coil in his stomach again. Perhaps not every girl...

"No, Amaris. Not this evening." Tom said in a polite, guarded tone. The hens looked disappointed, but Tom's well constructed smile charmed them into silent acceptance. All except for Amaris, apparently.

"But so many young ladies are left without a partner!" She whined, pouting her thick red lips at him. Did the half-brained girl not understand the meaning of the word no? Tom was in a deadly mood and these silly girls weren't helping.

"It's your duty as prefect to make sure we're all having a lovely time." Chimed in one of Amaris' friends. She had blond hair and a long face but her name escaped Tom. She obviously was not of pure blood or of any significance or Tom would have remembered her.

"You're right." He said coolly, his eyes flicking toward the Polish redhead again. "No lady should be without a dancing partner." There was a heartbeat of silence where the girls looked at Tom expectantly, waiting for him to offer his arm to one but instead Tom raised a hand and gestured forward the crowd of boys that were lingering behind him. They were never far from hand, his lackeys. "Boys, these lovely girls need dancing partners." Tom told them. Geoffrey was on Amaris before any of the others could offer her their arms and though she flicked a gaze of longing at Tom, she accepted Dolohov's hand gladly. Deliro swept it not long after, pulling the blond nameless one by the waist and the other boys followed. Soon all were on the dance floor with a girl and the other Slytherin's took note and moved to the dance floor as well. Tom stood off to the side and watched from an elevated position, turning the cup in his hand. Alcohol did not have much effect on Tom but he still didn't like to drink it. The feeling of a foggy mind was one that he hated, but of course it was not normal for a seventeen year old boy to turn away from butter beer and wine, so he held a filled cup in his hand to create the illusion of drinking it. He looked down at the cup and the hold of anger on his stomach tightened. The fact that his concern over the illusion of merriment was taking priority over studies and learning at the present time was almost more than he could bear. He did not want to be at this party, he wanted to be in the library pouring over books. He knew that he could find something explaining what it was that had happened between himself and that diary he created. He knew that he could do it again, and again. He wanted nothing more.

Ginny watched the scene between Tom and the other girls over the rim of her goblet, politely turning down an offer to dance by some boy who looked a good three years her jr. She had no interest in these people. Only one man held her interest, and it was not in a romantic light but a venomous desire.

It made her sick to see so many women throwing themselves at Tom. It was disgusting, petty and shallow. None of them knew who he was, all they saw was a handsome man. No one knew him like she did. None of them had ever seen his soul, felt his magic flow through them. Tom did not belong to the ridiculous tarts of this school. Tom was hers, and only she could have him.

Absently, his free hand went to the ring on his finger and he began to toy with it again. He remembered their faces, his face most of all. Another terrible smile fell upon his lips and his gaze fell once more on the new student standing by herself by the drink table. He was different from all the others, she couldn't take that away from him. He had done things that no other had done before him. He'd found magic that would make him stronger than any other. He was close to becoming more than man, he could practically taste it. Until then though, those of power would still be an interest to him.

"So, a parselmouth." Tom said as he stepped up beside Ginevra. He had abandoned his half filled cup on a separate table and was currently standing with his hands clasped behind his back. He didn't look at her when he spoke, but instead straight out. "It seems there is no shortage of surprises with you, Miss Worchol." His tone was polite but there was a slight edge to it, and worse, a curiosity.

She shook her head a little, trying to clear the cobwebs in her mind. Ever since she got back in time she had been having these... Flashes. One minute she would be concentrating on her mission, killing Tom, and one of these thoughts would come out of no where. They were hers, she knew that. And yet they were foreign to her. She needed to get to the library to research the effect certain ancient potions had on ones mind.

By the time she left her own thoughts and rejoined the party she had lost sight of Tom. She mentally cursed herself. She could not let him get out of her sight to often. She needed to find her opportunity to do what she came here to do. Se could not do that if she had no idea where he was.

He seemed to materialize out of thin air beside her. While it startled her she did not give him the satisfaction of seeing it, she worked hard to prefect her icily polite demeanor toward him. She smirked a little, he was giving her the perfect opportunity to play games with him. "Yes Mr. Riddle. I do hope you weren't offended." Though she was fairly certain they both know she didn't care. "I know how you enjoyed being the only parslemouth, something special?" She asked flashing him an innocent smile.

On the dance floor before them, Tom's boys were having quite a lot of fun. Rosier had his face buried against some giggling sixth year's neck and Amaris was looking at Geoffrey with wide round eyes filled with affection. He watched with amusement as she missed a step and stumbled but instead of helping her, Geoffrey hissed an insult at her and stalked off. Typical of Amaris and all the other girls Dolohov tormented, she chased after him calling out her apologies. The rest of the boys seemed greatly amused as well and while it pleased Tom to see his lackey's distracted and out of his way, he dreaded breakfast in the Great Hall tomorrow. All he would be hearing about was who was snogging who and whether or not they were going to do it again. Tom couldn't care less about the boys and their baser needs. Tom had never quite comprehended why people felt that they needed the approval and affections of others in order to quell their own emptiness. Tom had his own emptiness but it was not one that could be filled with giggling girls and twirling hair, he pitied the fools that were so basic in their minds that such a thing could satisfy them.

When the girl beside Tom replied his mind was pulled from the scene before him and instead turned it's attentions to the girl. His face remained perfectly smooth but beneath the surface something turned, thumping against his mask and begging to see the surface. He took a few moments to calm that twisting emotion beneath the surface and then unclasped his hands and twisted the ring around his finger. Little did she know...

"What makes you think I'm a parselmouth?" He asked smoothly. Once Tom had learned that it was uncommon to be a parselmouth he had been sure not to speak to his friends in front of others. Only Dumbledore knew, and a few select friends. How could this girl know if she had only just begun her studies at Hogwarts hours ago?

She gave a coy laugh. Though there was a measure of icy disdain. "I know all I need to know about you Mr. Riddle." She said, not bothering to look away from the display on the dance floor. She wondered how frustrated he was with her. She knew his patience could only stretch so thin, he was after all only human. No matter how much he hated that fact. She wondered if he retained any memories from her interaction with his diary horcrux. She had no idea how that worked.

She turned to him, giving him her full attention, flashing an innocent smile. "Why Mr. Riddle. You don't expect me to share all my secrets, do you?" She asked in response to his question of how she knew. "If I told you all my secrets you might get bored before you find out what game we're playing." She said with a small smirk. She only realized now why he seemed to enjoy these head games so much in her first year. They were an awful amount of fun.

She glanced at the delicate wrist watch on her arm, setting down her goblet she hadn't even sipped. "If you will excuse me Mr. Riddle, I really must retire for the evening. Classes are early." She said

Tom's mind reeled beneath his mask of stone as he thought back to all the times he had used his special talent within the walls of the school since students began arriving. Had she caught him whispering to the walls without his knowledge? If she had than how many others had done the same? He had always felt Dumbledore's suspicious eyes on him as he walked along the corridors, his fingers trailing across the rough stone but never had he thought another pair of eyes might have taken note as well. Other than that there were no times that he had spoken whilst she had been here. Had one of his own betrayed him? No, they wouldn't dare.

How did she know?

He watched her closely as she feigned indifference and set her goblet of wine down on the closest table to her. She was elegant and sharp in each movement she made and yet her face was one of goodness and innocence. She was a peculiar girl but something about her set Tom on uneasiness that he couldn't quite place. She had not displayed any exceptional magical talent, nor had she shown any particular prowess for charming and luring in others. She was snobby and self-righteous, someone that Tom would brush off easily were she anyone else. She she knew something about him that not many did. She knew something that would have taken cunning to learn. She was threatening him, he realized. She was either the bravest girl he'd met or the stupidest. Either way, this was one that he wanted to keep close. This was one that he had need to keep an eye on.

"Miss Worchol," he called to her. "You're new to Slytherin and yet no gentleman has offered you his hand." He said to her once she turned around. He took a small step towards her and held out his hand to her. "Won't you dance with me once before you retire?" His own challenging was there just as hers had been. He was daring her to tangle with the fire, daring her to play her little game with him. He'd never played cat and mouse against another cat before.

She watched his face stay completely blank, but she could see the glint in his eye and the slight twitching of his brow. His mind must be going a mile a second by the look of his expression. How did she know? What else could she know? What would she do with that information? Who would she tell? She hoped those questions were among the thoughts swirling in his mind, she hoped they felt like rocks in his stomach and caused him discomfort. She was truly a predator, she liked to play with her food before a feast.

She had only made it fifteen feet across the common room when he called her name, there was no reason to speak as loud as he had. He didn't yell, but he made sure the entire room heard. A small smirk hidden by a charming smile graced her lips. Here was her playmate. This was the Tom she had expected to see all night. He knew she could be a threat, now he seemed to be sizing her up.

She knew his challenge was cleverly disguised. Only she knew the real question. He wasn't really asking her to dance, she knew that, he was asking if she was brave enough to back up her words. Was she willing to place her hand in death to play her little game? "Why Mr. Riddle" she watched the jealous faces of the girls, and a few boys, go to one of hope. Some thought she might turn him down due to her indifferent comments earlier. "I would be delighted" it was the proper thing to do. One could not leave a challenge unanswered.

She stepped forward, meeting him in the middle of where they had been standing. She placed her smaller hand in his. She gave him a small curtsy as was custom, and they both knew that was the only reason why she did.

Jealous eyes followed Ginevra as she swept towards him. Her hand slid into his and something in Tom's mind flickered to life. He made no note of it on his face but within him, the missing piece of him ached. His stony face showed only politeness, however, as his free hand snaked around her waist and they moved into the center of the dance floor. Others danced around them but most were simply watching the spectacle before them. In his seven years of attending Hogwarts, Tom had never once offered his hand to another during a dance. The only girls that had ever had to honor of dancing with him had been the ones that he had been instructed to dance with by teachers during dancing lessons. Last year that lucky girl had been Amaris, which likely explained her assumed claim over him. This had made him mysterious and all the more alluring to the other girls but now the same effect was being had on the girl in his arms. The boys looked at her with amazement, surely curious as to what wonder this girl had that possessed their great Tom Riddle to offer his hand to her. The girls burned with hatred toward Ginevra and it seemed that the two were becoming the envy of every other in the room in some way or another.

Tom made no notice of those around them as they danced, the music instead becoming the focus of his attention. The music and the girl that looked back at him now. She looked quite nice under the glow of the light, or so he assumed. He had never been one to care about appearance but from what he understood of attraction, she was quite a sight to behold. What he found more appealing though was the tilt of her chin, the stern set of her mouth and the burning within her eyes. Even in the simple act of a dance, she was challenging him, daring him just as he dared her. Each step they took they plunged further into the flame, their dance was not as pleasant and simple as they'd have the world believe. This girl was going to be difficult for him. He hated her for irking him so. As he turned her in his arms though, his surroundings flickered and changed in his mind's eye. They were surrounded one moment by streamers and banners and the next by stone and sculpture. The place he recognized, his precious Chamber. The music from the common room carried through into the Chamber but he didn't recognize the people inside.

What was happening to him?

_"Don't you recognize this song, Ginny?" A handsome dark haired boy asked. His hand was placed on her back instead of her shapeless hip which seemed appropriate considering how young the girl before him was. She couldn't be more than a first year._

_"No." The short redhead answered honestly. Her eyes, which were fixated on the slightly translucent character before her, were wide with apprehension and awe. They were the eyes of innocence, sweet eyes that could tell no lies. Had he ever had eyes that looked like that, he wondered? He didn't imagine so._

_"I don't imagine you would." The dark boy said thoughtfully as they swayed to the music that seemed to be emanating from the open book on the wet floor beside them. The pages were blank, a slight glow alight in the seam. Their feet tapped in the wet puddles as they danced and something moved within the walls ominously but neither one of them seemed to notice these trivial details. "It was the first song we danced to, you know."_

_"You mean now?" She asked, confused._

_"No." He answered with a small laugh. "A very long time ago, at a party."_

_"Oh." The girl said, blushing and smiling down at her feet. She seemed to think that this was some sort of game that he was playing and she seemed willing to play along. He admired her innocence, something he had never seen in its purest form as he did now. Behind that purity though, even then, so long ago, she had a fire within her. "Did I look pretty that night?" She asked with all the playful innocence of an eleven-year old._

_"Very much so, Ginny." He answered quietly. When she smiled, he smiled back at her and twirled her under his arm and from deep within that dark Chamber a little bit of light flickered back into the world._

His eyes found those of the girl before him once more and suddenly he recognized the face of the eleven-year old girl that had been dancing with him within the Chamber. She had been younger than, her face rounder and her features more subtle. The spark had yet to be lit in her eyes then as it was now, her strong gaze staring back at her and for a moment Tom felt uneasy under it. The slightest crack in his mask contorted his face for the tiniest of moments but he knew that this fiery redhead would notice. What had she done to him? A moment later, as he regained his composure, the song ended. The missing piece of him ached sharply and the moment the music faded away he released her and stepped back. Somehow he managed a courteous bow and then looked back at her face, now suddenly so familiar to him. For an instant he lingered in silence, still unbelieving, before finally speaking.

"Good evening, Miss Worchol." He said stiffly. He turned away from her and began to stride toward the staircase that led to the boys bedrooms. The other prefects had already begun escorting people upstairs as the hour was getting late and many had already begun to retire. Just how long had he and Ginny been dancing together? Ginny. Tom placed a hand against his forehead and gave his head a slight shake. He knew that he was being watched and so he released his forehead and forced himself into a steady, comfortable stride. His expression was deadly but the rest of his demeanor was perfectly pleasant, as it always was. Nothing about him could have suggested that his mind had just been assaulted by... something.

What sort of magic is this?

"Tom..?" Deliro began as Tom strode past him and the other boys that were gathered together near the drinks. Rosier made an attempt to reach out to him but Tom struck his hand away and continued to the stairs and climbed them. He stopped momentarily, alone in the staircase and gripped his abdomen where he could feel the physical absence of himself, and tried to catch his breath. He heard approaching footsteps and darted back up the staircase and kept his mask of calmness on his face until he entered his room, the one he shared with Mulciber, and rooted through his trunk until he found his diary. He sat on the windowsill on one end of the large room and pressed the book to his chest with one hand, breathing deeply. Had this strange girl done something to him?

* * *

><p>"I'll kill her..." He muttered quietly into the night.<p>

They moved together with a familiarity she did not recognize, her mind turned and what felt like gears starting to turn filled her senses. This had happened before, normally just a before she fell asleep and dreamed of her first year. They were never truly nightmares, in fact they had been wonderful. Tom had been tender to her, to an extent. He was still harsh and controlling, but instead of making her feel frightened it excited her.

She had spoken to Dumbledore about this after the Christmas of her second year. He had explained it was her minds way of coping with the horrible memories between the blank gaps where she had been possessed. She had blindly accepted that because it made sense, and Dumbledore was only looking out for her. He was Dumbledore after all.

The dreams never went away, not until she went back to Dumbledore about them two years later. She wanted to move past the chamber but she couldn't while she couldn't escape in her sleep. She had been taught Oclumency by Dumbledore himself. She had felt it was a great honor to have private lessons with him. He showed her how to block out the dreams and memories of that year. She really did not need all the lessons he gave her though, after the first one she never dreamed about Tom again. She was able to finally forget as if that year never happened. She remembered the possession, and waking up terrified in the chamber. But she never remembered what she wrote to him, or what he said to her. The only thing she truly remembered was him putting her under the cruciatus curse. Dumbledore spent a few weeks helping her recover from that memory. At first it seemed fuzzy, but the more she told him about it the clearer it was.

Normally she could fight off this feeling, she had not had it in so long. But the magic right now was strong. She showed no outward sign she felt anything, but inside it felt like she was being pulled into something. She lost the fight against the memories and soon she saw the scene playing before her. But it seemed different then her dreams before, she was inside the body of the younger version of herself, and she could feel the emotions rolling off her younger self in waves. Love. Adoration. Respect. Loyalty.

That was the strongest one, loyalty. But those weren't directed at Harry where they had been her entire life. They were focused on Tom. She knew from those feelings that her younger self was willing to do anything for him, she was prepared to kill for him if he only asked her to. No one would ever know the secrets they shared, nothing he said to her would pass her lips to another person. She would take his trust to the grave, no one could change her feelings for him.

Just as strangely as the feeling had come it had gone. She was thrown back in to the common room and back to reality. She was still dancing with Tom, except now her head was not level with his navel, though he was still several inches taller then herself. The song ended and she barely took note it was not the song they had been dancing to a second ago. "It was a pleasure Mr. Riddle." Se said, forcing herself in to a calm composed shell. Inside she was shaken, she was not sure why or how she knew, but that was not a vision her mind made up. That had truly happened.

She made her way up to her dormitory that she shared with Eileen Prince, ignoring the mile an hour chatter about how lucky she was. Something about Tom never dancing with anyone, it was an honor to be his yearly dance partner for their lessons. She climbed in to bed after changing in to a floor length silk night gown.

She did not fall asleep quickly, lost in thought about what had happened. That had really happened. The more she thought about it, the more the cobwebs cleared. That had been just before Halloween, she had gone in to their chamber to write to him. She missed him terribly and wanted to tell him everything, and show him all the new magic she had learned. She remembered the love she felt toward Tom.

The last thing she felt before falling in to an uneasy sleep was warring magic. Her own mind trying to right itself and her own efforts to keep it in what she believed a whole piece.

* * *

><p>Tom didn't move or even register awareness that Nigel had entered the room when he did. Tom remained where he was, sitting on the sill of the large window watching the rain droplets roll down the beautifully colored glass, the ridge of his diary pressed against his top lip as he thought. His eyes followed the trail of the rain drops and Mulciber knew better than to interrupt Tom while he was like this. With all the consideration that Tom imagined a friend might have for someone, he quietly changed into his nightclothes and tucked himself into his bed. He faced his back to Tom as if to give him the utmost privacy and fell asleep almost at once. Tom still didn't move from his place against the window. Lost deep in thought Tom was busy trying to explore the connection he felt with the little bit of himself that had been sealed away in his diary but though he tried to speak to it, it wouldn't speak back to him. After what had happened in the common room his diary was now silent to him. What sort of magic had that been? He had seen the girl there and himself, yet it wasn't all of himself. There were pieces missing, crucial pieces. He had been a memory of himself during his fifth year, not the wholeness of who he was now. Yet, he had felt it in the ache of his missing piece. He had felt the attachment of the circumstance the moment his hands reached his diary. Could the red head have done that? She couldn't have. This was his special piece, the bit of himself that couldn't be touched, couldn't be hurt. It was his taste of what he would soon become.<p>

She couldn't have...

Tom didn't sleep well that night but one would have been able to tell by the way that he strode down the corridors. The same as he always was, people of other houses shrunk away from him at his approaching steps and watched him in awe as he passed by. His hoard of followers trailed after him as they made their way into the Great Hall. Escorts were not considered necessary for breakfast and lunch so Tom had no worries about any annoying females flocking to him while he tried to regain his strength for the first day of lessons. At the Slytherin table, a few choice students were missing. The students that had too much to drink and the ones that had stayed up far too late were absent from breakfast but he knew they wouldn't be foolish enough to skip their lessons. If there was one thing Tom found infuriating, it was the disrespect of education.

"Geoffrey, what happened with Amaris?" Nott asked stupidly from across Tom.

"She's in love with me, already, of course." He replied nonchalantly, but his mouth was twisted into a cruel smile. The other boys laughed at that, all but Nigel who sat quietly at Tom's side and ate his breakfast in small, polite bites. On the other side of Tom Deliro sat, interacting with the rest of the boys, but he was smart enough not to try to engage Tom while he was reading.

Remaining at Hogwarts over the summer had been quite beneficial for Tom. Without the constant gaze of Dumbledore upon him he had even managed to steal away to his precious Chamber a few times, something that he certainly wouldn't be able to do this year. As well he had been given access to the library and had spent month after month pouring over the books within there. The restricted section had been a playground for his mind during those long nights he spent reading by candlelight in the library. His mind had been crammed full of so much knowledge he had thought he might explode. Potions, enchantments, histories of the Wizarding world filled every nook and cranny of his brilliant head but he still did not know all that he wanted to. The book he currently read, while popping bits of fruit into his mouth, was about dark arts and he was currently reading the section on enchanted objects.

Ginny walked along the corridor with Eileen and Amaris trailing a few steps behind her, gossiping about who was who of Hogwarts. Ginny was growing tired of hearing who had more money and influence. Both girls were excitedly talking about who they hoped would ask for their hand over Christmas break. Most purebloods of standing were engaged the Christmas of their seventh year and married shortly after graduation.

"I hope Tom will ask me" Eileen said in a dreamy voice. "He won't bother" Ginny said, not paying much attention, resisting the urge to add 'you fall in love with an abusive muggle and produce the single most irritating man on the planet'. "Oh don't be so mean, he might. A man has needs and I could fill those needs easily" Eileen said in a pouting voice. "Eileen dear, the needs that man has could not be filled by you" Ginny said in a vague voice as they reached the great hall.

She looked at the girls trailing behind her with a strange look when they burst out giggling. "What?" She asked in irritation, she was sorely tempted to hex them both for laughing at her. "Oh I see what it is" she said in a giggling voice. "Of course it is so obvious after last night. You have the hots for him! What spell did you use?" Eileen asked conspiratorially as if Ginny was some big mastermind who pulled off something incredible.

"Eileen, I will give you one warning" she said in icy tone, rounding on the girl. "Don't throw around accusations you can't back up, and don't presume to know anything about my motives" she hissed in a deadly voice. As instantly as she had become cold she gave the startled girls a sweet smile "come on, we mustn't miss breakfast" she said though it was not a suggestion.

"Tom..." Leonard said to him. Tom flicked a deadly gaze up to the boy who he was sure was already tucking his feet under his chair in memory of his broken toes. Avery said nothing though and just nodded toward the Great Hall doors as a familiar red haired girl strode in. Tom registered no emotion on his face and looked away from her before she could see him looking at her, his eyes going back down to the book.

"Tom," Avery tried again, but was cut off before he could continue.

"Bore someone else with your obsession over the girl, Leonard." He said. Behind his smooth, elegant voice there was a snap, a certain crack of the whip that silences Leonard but the other boys, well trained by Tom, quickly resumed conversation. While they chatted about the party and whether or not Geoffrey would make a victim out of Amaris, Tom stewed growing more frustrated as each new page of his book left him further without answers.

She entered the great hall, sitting across from Tom though she didn't bother looking up. She let Nygin down on to the seat beside her, giving a first year a quick look that made her scoot over. She set several pieces of sausage in front of Nygin before serving her own breakfast. None of the boys seemed comfortable to talk to her like they had at dinner last night, but she assumed that was for the same reason the girls were giving her death glares. Tom had marked her as his, though for vastly different reasons then they assumed.

"Good morning Mr. Riddle." She said not looking up as she cut her eggs into bite sized bits. "Sleep well?" She knew she was stoking the flame from last night, she was letting him know she knew what happened and was trying to dare him to do something about it.

She didn't even need to speak and already the boys that had been sitting across from Tom where shuffling out of the way. Amaris sat on one side of her, across from Geoffrey and was giving him loving puppy-eyes while he ignored her and continued to talk to Nott, who was sitting beside him. On the other side of Tom, Mulciber continued to quietly pick at his food while Rosier made an attempt to talk to him and from beside Amaris, Eileen tried in vain to get Tom's attention. He was engrossed in his book however and did his best not to notice Ginevra sit down in front of him. She picked at her food with dainty hands and fed her familiar lovingly, something that Tom couldn't help but admire her for. Parselmouth's shared a certain love for the reptiles, perhaps she too was a parselmouth but the creatures were more dear to Tom than they could ever possibly be to her. A pale imitation of what he was already...

'Just like the pale imitation of you that held her so gently in your Chamber...' an unwanted thought invaded his mind.

She spoke to him and he did his best to feign indifference. "Morning." He replied nonchalantly as he flipped a page in his book and popped another piece of fruit into his mouth. When she asked him how he slept his eyes flicked up from his book to meet hers. Her expression was not one of simple pleasantry and she herself had mentioned a dislike for small talk. Still she posed the question with purposefulness in her eyes, that spark lashing out at him with it's flames. Had she some notion of what occurred the night before? Could she have truly been behind it? Without thinking, Tom's fingers went to the small stack of books on the bench between himself and Deliro and found the spine of his diary. He caressed the smooth leather to reassure himself of the gross impossibility of that and then tore his eyes away from her, refocusing himself back on his book. "Fine, yourself?" His voice the perfect polite tone.

She watched his hand reach down to something beside him. If she did not know Tom so well he might have seemed almost worried. Maybe she had underestimated her ability to get under his skin. But really, they were so evenly matched. She had learned these games from him, and now the student was using her skills against her master.

As she thought about the student versus master analogy she was struck by the emotions she had felt in her memory of the chamber. Loyalty. Even now she felt an uncomfortable loyalty to him. She would have to work on her control more. These tricks of the mind could not sway her. She needed to find his diary and destroy it so she could kill him.

"Just delightful, thank you for asking" she said with a polite smile. Eileen kept flirting with Tom, practically begging Tom to take her on the first Hogsmead weekend. She bit her tongue, trying to ignore Eileen's attempts to charm Tom. An irrational fire settled in her stomach, a feeling she could not identify.

All around him people were buzzing like insects and his control over his own frustrations was becoming increasingly precarious. He hated them for their humanity. He hated them for their silly needs, their trivial desires. All of it made him sick to his stomach and filled him with a sort of loathing that he had become a master at disguising. To his left, Geoffrey was brushing off Amaris' approaches and she sniveled at him as though the two were star crossed lovers. Was she so dense that she couldn't see that Dolohov was toying with her? If she was dense, she couldn't be much denser than Nott who was babbling about cheating on a test to pass Slughorn's class this year. Professor Slughorn was a blubbering buffoon but he was an excellent Potions teacher, it would take a mastermind to pull one over on him in a test. It would take someone like Tom, and though Nott fancied himself a friend of the boy, he was not Tom's equal. Just past them Avery was gushing about his desires to do inappropriate things with a few of the Slytherin girls that had blossomed over the summer. The fool was forever obsessing over women. The only ones that were fairly quiet were Deliro and Mulciber. Lestrange added in his own comments to the conversations but most were dismissive and silencing. Nigel on the other hand stayed completely silent while he picked at his food. What aggravated Tom most though was the girl that leaned herself across Amaris and Ginevra to try and capture his ear.

"Tom it was wonderful to see you join in on the party last night!" She cooed. Her torso was practically in her plate as she stretched her body in an attempt to be seen by Tom. "Perhaps next time you might let yourself be shared by some of us girls." She flicked her hair in an attempt to seem flirtatious but she only ended up swatting Amaris in the eye with the tips of her dark locks. "After all, we can't let Ginny have you all to herself." Tom was about ready to curse the girl to an early grave when she was silenced by another voice. "Eileen, act dignified and stop groveling" Ginny snapped, amused when Eileen stopped talking and went to her breakfast, though she was fully aware of the death glares the girl was shooting her. Tom's attention turned to the redhead across from him who had coolly silenced Eileen who seemed to be her minion now. Eileen cast a hooded gaze at Ginevra and then hung her head shamefully as she poked at her breakfast, trying to appear less embarrassed than she was. The quick snap by the redhead also caused the discussion that was buzzing around Tom to hush slightly, for that he was moderately grateful.

"Dumbledore," Nigel whispered into Tom's ear, the first thing he'd said since the meal began. Tom didn't need to turn around to know that Dumbledore must be within the Great Hall watching Tom closely. It had become routine now for Tom's lackey's to point out whenever the Professor was in the vicinity. He hated the feel of the man's eyes on him. He hated the man himself and if he could he'd have cursed him the moment he had looked upon him with those accusatory eyes two years ago. The babbling of his classmates, the constant panic about the assault on his mind the previous night and now the presence of Dumbledore – watching him crack. It was too much for Tom.

"I think I'll get a head start on classes today," Tom said casually as he pushed his plate away from him and closed the book he had been trying to read. Coincidentally, the first class Tom had for the day was Transfiguration with the very teacher whose gaze he was trying to escape. Tom lifted himself from the table with a cool expression on his face, his gaze refusing to meet anyone else's. The boys at the table, almost all at once, began to rise but Tom raised one elegant hand and they froze in place. "Alone." He added in an icy tone. Slowly, they shrunk back to their seats and Tom swept away from them all and headed out of the Great Hall. As he walked, he felt the eyes of the other students follow him but he didn't care, he never did when they stared. They were insects, merely moths drawn to a flame. They were nothing.

As he walked his head turned and he looked back over his shoulder, his eyes meeting Ginny's and lingered there for a moment before turning away again and continuing out of the Great Hall and down the corridors. Perhaps there was more than one flame burning in the school...

She dabbed at the corner of her lips with her napkin, acting the part of the well-bred lady. She flipped a curl out of her face. The gesture was not meant to entice like Eileen or Amaris, the curl was simply driving her to distraction. She longed to simply throw her hair in to a pony tail and get it out of her face. But that look was not one for a lady of the 1940's. She honestly had no idea how any girl could duel properly with these obnoxious curls in their way all the time.

She was pulled out of her own musing by someone warning Tom of Dumbledore. She looked up at the slightly less weathered teacher. His hair was still dulled by not quite as grey as she knew it, now it seemed more silvery. His beard was significantly shorter as well. She looked him over briefly, noticing the calculating gaze he was giving Tom. She quashed a feeling of anger as she looked back at her companions, she wasn't sure why she felt anger toward Dumbledore.

The two almost seemed to have a polar magnetic effect. It seemed the second Dumbledore entered the room Tom felt a force to leave, he suddenly seemed in a hurry to get to his lessons even though classes didn't start for another thirty minutes.

As he was walking away she locked eyes with him. She had intended to flash him a smirk and raise her glass, but she felt the same pull as the night before, no fighting could stop her from being thrown in to darkness.

_A translucent image of Tom stood there looking down at a small red headed girl. She didn't need to see the girls face to know it was her. "Ginny, it has always been you. But you're not your self yet. Don't worry. That will happen, I will see you again" the specter turned and walked away from her, walking towards the open diary on the floor. He glanced over his shoulder at her, locking eyes before he sank in to the blank pages._

_She scooped up the book with trembling hands. She stood alone in the Chamber of Secrets, the diary clasped in her small hands. Her face shined under the eery light from the chamber and her eyes glittered with tears that hadn't fallen yet. The basilisk in a large coil behind her, providing a safe place to rest. "Tom, please come back" she whimpered with a devastated look._

_Innocence filled her eyes as she stared down at the most exciting thing in her life. Nothing had ever been simple about this book, it was the case that contained her closest friend and she would do anything to bring him back. "Don't go Tom." She begged, tears slipping down her cheeks and absorbing in to the pages just like the ink she wrote to him with. "I don't understand. What do you mean?" She whispered to the empty walls, unaware if Tom could even hear her in his prison._

She blinked and the chamber melted away and she was sitting in the great hall. It must not have been as long as the incident from last night because Eileen was still sitting next to her eating, and Amaris was on her other side mooning after Geoffrey. She looked away from Tom, suddenly in a dark mood. She stood up, lowering her arm to allow Nygin on to her shoulders. "He is toying with you Amaris. If you're thick enough to fall for his games you deserve what you get" she hissed at the girl, needing to make someone hurt. "I will meet you two in class" she added as an after thought.

She used all her self control to move with grace and purpose and not stalk off like Snape. She stepped where she assumed no one could hear her and set Nygin on the floor. "I can't take this Nygin, find that bloody book and bring it to me! I won't be haunted by it a second time!" She hissed, though her inflection held no anger just frustration. Nygin slithered off in the direction of the dormitories, it was a good place to start.

Ginny took a moment to relax, imagine every hex and curse she would put Tom under, before she headed for the transfiguration classroom.

Tom wound his way through the corridors, keeping close to the walls, until he found himself mostly alone. It was then that a tiny smile curled the corners of his lips as he sensed the presence of his beloved pet, that loving voice that rang out in his ears. As he traveled, Tom reached out and placed his fingertips against the stone wall as if to caress the pet he hadn't been able to comfort since the summer. They moved together down the corridor and most of the students sidestepped Tom like usual, little did they know he cared not for them at any rate. He was having a conversation with the only companion within the school he trusted.

"Something troubles my master." That melodic voice echoed inside of his head. Tom wished he could answer, but he knew that he couldn't. Not here. Not with so many ears now wandering the corridors of the castle.

"Let me ease master's mind, let me kill those who trouble him. Unleash me…"

"If only I could," he whispered to the wall in a language none close would understand as he rounded the corner. He tapped the wall, his little sign to his pet that their time to converse was at an end and headed down the opposite corridor towards his transfiguration class. Even in transfiguration, Dumbledore could not deny Tom's brilliance. This year would be no exception.

Tom noted Miss Worchol to his right, across the aisle from him, as he slid into his seat next to Deliro. In front of Deliro a fearsome looking owl was perched on a stand and in front of Tom a fat toad sat motionless and silent on a tray. The Professor had offered Tom a snake as a substitution when he had begun his lessons in first year and Tom had politely declined, preferring a toad instead. Dumbledore had pulled a face at that, he didn't think highly of Tom's attachment to the animals. Tom didn't much care what the Professor thought on the matter. He'd never dishonor his friends in such a manner. To transfigure a snake would be like a physical blow to Tom's morale, the flimsy thing that it was.

"Good morning class, and welcome to your first lesson of the new school year." Dumbledore began in his deep, slow voice. That raspy voice of his had no melodic quality, no elegance or charm. Tom hated the sound of the Professor's voice most of all. The last of the students had finally filtered into the classroom and Dumbledore began his lesson. He babbled on about advanced transfiguration and warned that the animals could be harmed should the students not listen to his instruction.

'Precisely why I wouldn't take your snake, Dumbledore…' he suppressed the need to say it out loud.

For a man who acted as though he knew all of Tom's secrets, he knew not much about the boy at all. Tom watched him, masking his loathing as indifference as the Professor continued through the lesson. The old coot only stopped speaking once another teacher entered the room. He looked distraught, his flimsy glasses were smeared with dirt and his gloves were too big for his hands. Not that appearances mattered much for Professor Beery. Much like Tom preferred the company of snakes, the Herbology teacher preferred the company of plants. Tom didn't listen as Dumbledore inquired why the teacher was present in his classroom, he already knew.

"Would I be able to borrow Alek Parsley for a moment, sir?" Professor Beery asked.

"Why?" Demanded the haughty Hufflepuff.

"There's been an accident in the Greenhouse, your younger brother…" Professor Beery trailed off and Alek was immediately on his feet. He paused and turned back to Dumbledore who nodded, giving his permission. Alek turned away from Dumbledore and a hateful glare, brimming with tears, fell on Deliro. When his eyes fell on Tom though, even though Tom wasn't looking back at him, he could feel the terror pouring from the husky boy.

"Herbology classes will be canceled for the day, students!" Professor Beery called as he followed Alek out of the room. When the Hufflepuff raced off in a flash of black and yellow, Deliro leaned back in his chair beside Tom and folded his hands behind his head. On his face he tried to stifle the satisfied smirk that was slipping across his broad mouth. Tom on the other hand, merely continued to make his notes on the Professor's lesson, until he realized that the sound of his quill against his notebook was the only sound in the entire classroom. He lifted his eyes from his notebook and they fell on Dumbledore who was watching him with a gaze that could be read clearly by anyone in the room with half a brain. Tom replied to the silent accusation by raising one perfectly groomed eyebrow.

Prove it, old man.

Linek Parsley would be in the hospital wing for at least three days, covered head to toe in severe boils that were guaranteed to infect. When the nurse was finished with him she would diagnose it as a reaction caused by the enchantment on the soil used for the lesson that day. He had merely gotten too close to an unstable mixture of the reactants used. No fault could be laid on Professor Beery, only on young Linek's curiosity. After all, these things are expected of a second-year. No one would think to check his books for a hex. This one was far too complicated, far too advanced for the likes of students. Even if Dumbledore managed to get his hands on those books, Tom had made certain that there would be no magical traces left and if he found any, they wouldn't belong to Tom. Alek Parsley should have known better than to threaten Deliro Lestrange on the train in front of Tom. Tom protected his… friends.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore said, turning away from Tom and referring once more the chart behind him outlining the anatomy of his own animal and how the transfiguration worked. Tom returned to his notes, once again the sound of quill against parchment filled the air.

She hadn't been paying much attention until some hufflepuff jumped up about some accident or something. The boy was crying and glaring at Tom as he ran out. She glanced at Tom, seeing the look on his face. He had something to do with the boys accident, what she wasn't sure.

She yawned, this was so pointless. They were doing 'Advanced Transfiguration' that she had done a year ago in her own private lessons with Dumbledore. She flicked her wand lazily at her rat. It glowed bright white for a second, she was not sure what made her want to change the pronunciation of the spell. She knew how to do the spell correctly, but a familiar voice hissed in her ear how to say the spell, the voice was familiar to her but she couldn't place it. If she closed her eyes for a moment she could feel a hand guiding her own, a ghostly touch modifying her wand movement a little sharper.

The bright white turned a sour green and instead of turning the rat in to another animal it started to tremble, it's entire small body humming with magical overload. The spell was different and yet it was close enough to be considered a mistake in pronunciation. She knew the curse she preformed was not transfiguration. In fact it was a dark curse. Designed to use the magic of the spell to overload a persons magical core. In the case of an animal she knew the spell would be enough magic to explode the little creature.

When the rat hummed so loudly she thought it would come apart any second. She crafted her face to one of confusion, even though she knew exactly what was about to happen. How she knew it she wasn't sure. "Um... Professor?" She said in a false tone. Then the rat exploded, she quickly threw up a shield to prevent bits from covering her, though she didn't bother to spare Eileen. She hid her smirk behind a horrified mask, letting out a squeak significantly smaller then the other girls scream. It was purely for show. She could feel her core sing with magic forgotten. A craving she did not know she had was satisfied and the yearning for more intensified.

All the while that Dumbledore continued his lesson his gaze would occasionally flick over to Tom. The dark boy's mask of a studious pupil did not fool Dumbledore even the slightest, but it was not Dumbledore that he was interested in fooling. The Professor knew well enough that Tom needn't make a single note on the subject of transfiguration. He had read enough over the summer that he already knew the entirety of the curriculum. Yet Tom made his notes nevertheless. It was not common for students to have a natural aptitude in all subjects, therefore in some subjects he made more of a point to pay attention. At any rate, pretending to be interested in Dumbledore's lesson was better than pretending to be interested in whatever it was that Deliro would talk about if he enticed conversation from him.

When it came time for the class to transfigure their animals, Tom's toad was the first to change. It grew larger and sprouted hair. Deliro watched in fascination as Tom's toad transfigured into a full grown cat with sleek black fur. Deliro could only transfigure his own animal into a different breed of bird, but to change the species all together was considered a more formidable feat. Tom twirled his wand in his hand while the one-time-toad groomed itself. When it moved toward Tom's arm, which rested against the desk, and rubbed its face against him, Tom made no move to brush the thing off. He had created it, he could let the creature admire its creator. Tom's newly made cat was only the focus of the class momentarily though as everyone's attention quickly turned to the redhead beside him who, with innocent looking eyes, watched her rat explode. Tom knew that curse, he had read about it whilst given his free range over the restricted section in his first summer at Hogwarts. It was a cruel curse, difficult to use on other witches and wizards but easy to use on animals and muggles. None-magical beings were easily torn to shreds by that particular curse. When Ginevra looked around the room, her panic far more hollow than that of her classmates, Tom gave her the tiniest of approving smirks. In an instant though, her eyes were not the same and Tom recognized what was happening almost immediately.

There was no way to prevent the classroom from changing into the Chamber, no way to stop the red haired girl he looked at to shrink into her eleven-year old self, no way to stop his own adolescent body from becoming transparent. It was happening again, whatever it was. The absence within him ached and in his solid body back in another world he touched the book hidden within the inner pockets of his robes. Again he was falling into a memory that was not his own, a vision that didn't belong to his own eyes.

_"Don't you trust me?" He asked her as she looked down at the rat that sat at her feet, waiting for the young girl to try her hand at playing God. He crouched beside her and while her eyes focused on the creature before her, his own eyes were on hers. When she looked back at him he saw the flicker of that flame he liked so dearly._

_"Yes." She said defensively, as if it were an insult for him to think otherwise. "But what if I can't do it?" She asked nervously._

_"You can. I've seen you do it before." He answered. She nodded sharply but in spite of her conviction, there was a slight apprehension in her eyes and the smallest quiver to her small hand as it held her wand. He reached out and placed his own hand, barely even there, over hers to stop the shaking. _

_"Come now, just like I taught you." Their hands moved together and she uttered the words while he whispered them into her ear. The rat splattered into pieces around them but not a bit of it touched the girl. She looked at the scattered pieces of the rat, now strewn along the wet stone of the Chamber, with both amazement and shock. She felt as though what she had done should be wrong, yet it had felt good to flex her powers. "You see how strong you are?" He asked from behind her. She turned to face him, a smile on her face. "Promise me that you'll never forget how powerful you are, Ginny." He said with kind eyes, kinder eyes than he knew he could wear if it were anyone else._

_"I promise." She said with wide eyes._

_Don't forget..._

Those round eyes evened out, narrowing slightly and once more he was facing the girl he knew in his true life. His smirk had fallen and hidden beneath his robes his fingers held the diary with a white knuckle grip. His eyes turned away from her, followed by his head and out of the corner of his eye he caught Dumbledore watching the two with a penetrating gaze. Of course he hadn't missed her hollow cry or her premeditated shield. He also didn't miss the look Tom gave her or how his reaction faltered and changed over the course of just a few seconds. Dumbledore knew better. He knew that Ginny was too strong for a silly mistake like that.

Ginny?

He turned his eyes away from the girl pervading his mind and focused instead on the way the black cat rubbed itself against his hands. With one finger he rubbed it under its chin and it purred at him in gratitude. He supposed the life of a cat would be superior to that of a toad, perhaps that was why it was so grateful. Right now, Tom could think of a few people he'd like to turn into toads. He released his vice like grip on his diary and waited for the aching in his core to subside. He wanted this class over. He wanted to put some distance between himself and Miss Worchol.

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><p>Reviews:<p>

Whatisfake: I'm glad you like the story. I do believe Ginny has it in her to kill someone. Afterall, she spent almost a year with Voldemort's soul, that twists someone.

PLEASE REMEMBER TO REVIEW THIS CHAPTER, I DONT WANT TO POST A STORY NO ONE LIKES.


	3. Unbreakable Walls Break

Summary:

The war was not going well, in fact, Dumbledore and his army were losing badly. They needed a secret weapon. But they could not change current events. Or could they? That thought sparked a brilliant idea. Send someone back to a time to kill Tom Riddle before he can become Voldemort. But who should they send? They needed someone they knew he would let into his circle of close followers. The person also had to be someone they never thought would turn against them. The only person that matched that was Ginny. She would never turn on Harry or her family. What happens if she goes back, and instead of killing Tom, she falls in love with him. After all, he was seventeen when he controlled her with the diary. What can she do when faced with the man she was in love with when eleven years. Feelings as strong as that never truly leave you. What if she does not kill him, but comes back as his evil queen?

Authors note:

Here is chapter three! I'm glad you like it so far. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. I shall post chapter four soon.

Disclaimer:

I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. Face it, if I did I am sure it would not have turned out nearly as well as what came out of J.K's mind. Lol, it would have been a dark book, and old Dumbles would have died in book one... Anyway... Onto the story!

Reviews:

xX-Artemis75-Xx: I'm so glad you like the story, sorry there are a few errors. I always go back twice to check for mistakes, some do slip through though.

Kathy: Thanks so much! This actually is a story I've wanted desperately to roleplay, but no one seems interested. So i figured I'd write it by myself. Tom is a really tricky character to get right, and I was worried I might loose him sometimes.

Story: Mislead Loyalties

Chapter: Unbreakable Walls Break

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><p>She shivered as if the temperature was twenty below. She could still feel the heat of his breath on the back of her neck and the smell of cinnamon. She knew he was not real, and yet she had known so many things about him. Some times her connection to his soul was so strong she could feel his hand on her own, she could smell his intoxicating smell, she could feel his eyes watching her as she preformed a new spell he was teaching her.<p>

She stuck her wand back in her pocket, putting all her things in to he bag. She needed to get to potions class, and she prayed Sughorn would let her work alone. These... Connections to Tom were to much for her mind to handle. When these vivid day dreams occurred she would feel her self pulled to another place in time. She could not allow her self to be so vulnerable in the present, not when her enemy was so close. But was he?

The more she struggled to keep her mind the way it had been the more things seemed disconnected. She could feel a powerful magic trying to sew her mind in to a certain pattern and the magic wasn't her own. Her own magical core was trying to fight off the foreign magic, it felt like such a violent clash it was starting to give her a migraine. She could not wait for her free period after potions, she needed to go to the library and find anything she could on ancient potions. While she was at it she might as well look up anything she could find in the restricted section on horcruxs. Maybe there could be delayed side effects to dealing with them.

She did not miss Dumbledore's penetrating gaze, she would never admit she felt uncomfortable. This was not the man she knew. This was not the man who helped rid her of the dreams of the Chamber. This was not the man who fueled her hatred for Tom and sent her back to kill him. This man was suspicious and she needed to be careful.

The images played over in her mind. Tom had showed such confidence in her, no one ever had. She was just the youngest of seven children, nothing she did could ever be unique, one of them had done it before. She had believed that nothing she did could be special and she could never be the first in her family to do something. But he believed in her. That had meant more to her then anything in the world. He told her she could and he showed her she could be so much more then anyone else.

She was magically stronger then her brothers. They did not have the ability to do the things she could at only eleven years old. None of them had the fortitude to do what needed to be done. She did, she had set the basilisk loose on the mudbloods and tried to bring Tom to life again. None of them were anywhere near the level she was on.

She could not shake the way he looked at her. Then it seemed so innocent, she had thought nothing of it. Now she could not shake his look, or his words out of her mind. Such fire, such heat, and it almost seemed like longing. Like he was trying to find something that was buried deep in her, something he missed terribly. She had no idea what that was. And what had he said to her?

'Promise me you'll never forget how powerful you are' she felt something grip in her own soul. She felt the urge to run to his arms and cry. She wanted to ask his forgiveness for breaking her promise. She had forgotten how powerful she was. She went from all the power he unlocked in her and became so weak. She had forgotten him... She had forgotten everything.

She shook her head, cleared her mind, and the feelings faded into a dull ache. She stood up and shouldered her bag, heading for the door.

"Uh, Tom..." Deliro began as they started out of the classroom. Tom stopped and looked over his shoulder to see the black cat following at his ankles. It mewed at him when he stopped and weaving between his feet. Deliro looked at the cat and then back up at Tom with raised eyebrows. He was asking him, in the silent way that Tom liked, what he intended to do with the cat. Tom debated for a moment and then heard a familiar raspy voice call out to him.

"Leaving with class materials I see, Tom." Dumbledore asked, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his robes. He knew what would be coming next and he didn't need one of his lackey's around to witness it. Tom looked at Deliro and made a gesture with his head. Lestrange didn't need to be told that he had been instructed to wait outside. Once the boy was out of the room Tom turned back to Dumbledore who narrowed his eyes on him, his face suddenly very close. "You show great promise, Tom, but I can't help but worry about you." He said as he began to circle Tom, the way a shark circles its prey.

"Worry, sir?" Tom repeated, the epitome of nonchalance.

"A brilliant mind can do extraordinary things, Tom." The old man mused as he stopped in front of the young Riddle, within arms reach. "What sort of man, one with a mind such as yours chooses to become, could change the world." Tom narrowed his eyes at the Professor. "I worry, because I fear you have chosen incorrectly." Dumbledore had always been one for gentle words over stern action. It was his gentleness that made Tom uneasy, because behind that gentleness there was motive and cunning. He hated Dumbledore's gaze, not because it pierced through Tom but because it saw Tom as a reflection. The old man dared to think of them as similar, one straying from the light and the other engulfed in it. What Dumbledore failed to realize was that he was already further into the darkness of the Wizarding world than Tom had ever thought to stray.

"And how have you chosen, sir?" Tom retorted. Dumbledore looked taken aback at first and then smiled a knowing smile at Tom, as though he were pleased by the challenge set forth by this brilliant boy.

"Keep the cat," Dumbledore said before turning away from Tom and wandering back to his charts of anatomy and began to prepare for the next lesson. Tom looked over the Professor once more with calculating eyes and then strode from the classroom, Deliro falling into step beside him as they journeyed to their Potions class. Behind them, a sleek black cat chased after them, its eyes following a certain dark haired boy adoringly. Not unlike eyes he'd seen before, in what seems like another life.

She lingered slightly, walking slow enough to try and catch what ever Dumbledore was saying to Tom. She was curious how the two would interact. Dumbledore saw right through Tom's innocent and charming act. She wondered if Tom bothered to drop it or if he tried to keep up the pretense neither of them believed. She cursed under her breath as she resumed walking. They were speaking to quietly for anyone to hear.

Ginny sat at her normal desk in potions, well normal fifty years from now. She was so lost in thought she didn't hear most of the students file in. Something about the way those day dreams had felt, they were so real. They were to real to be simply day dreams. So what were they? She would have blamed Tom, assuming he was planting images in her mind to make her go round the bend. But how could he? Had there been some unseen effect of the horcrux Dumbledore had not known. Come to think of it, why did Dumbledore not explain what a horcrux was till six years after she had come into possession of the cursed book.

Her potion supplies were already set up, organized in a familiar pattern. The faces were different, the teacher was different, hell even she was different. But potions were always the same. No matter if it was 1945 or 1998, if you added worm root to dragons blood it would start a burn salve. If you took hemlock root and mixed it with slug paste and mandrake oil it would create an explosion similar to that of muggle C4. These were absolutes and they were oddly reassuring to her.

She looked at the board, listening to Sughorn talking about assigning partners for the year. While her face seemed the perfect look of attention her hand absentmindedly drew a picture scratch parchment. The drawing of a locket, an ornate snake curled in an 'S' on the front. She could not remember ever seeing the locket, but it was beautiful none the less. Se was sure it was just a figment of her imagination, a longing for such a beautifully simplistic piece of jewelry. She couldn't help but wonder what secrets that little oval locket.

"Miss Worchol." Ginny looked up, glad she caught her name the first time he said it. "Yes professor?" She said, flashing him a sweet smile. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from rolling her eyes when he blushed and looked away. Really, this man was old enough to be her grandfather... Well, father at the moment, but grandfather by her birth date. "You will be partnered with Mr. Riddle for the year." That one phrase seemed delight her and annoy her at the same time, though her face was politely indifferent. This would help her plans wonderfully, but at the same time she did not want any flashes brought on from his presence "Yes sir"

Damn, Slughorn. Damn the fool seven ways to hell. He was meant to be the teacher Tom could rely on, the one sitting neatly in his back pocket. He had been part of the man's ridiculous social club since his first year at Hogwarts and endured all manner of fawning for the sake of his appearances. Slughorn had never let him down before and here he was lumping himself in with the rest of the incompetent flies that buzzed around this school with their sense of dignified authority. Who was he to command that he endure the presence of the one person he wanted most to avoid? Slughorn was about to find himself on the short-list of individuals turned into toads.

His eyes flicked over to Miss Worchol as the partners were through being announced and he made his way over to her and took the spot next to her. In front of him, Nigel was paired up with Eileen and across from them Deliro was seated beside Orion Black. Had Slughorn lost his wits? That match was a recipe for disaster. The boys would poison one another the first chance either one got. Tom gave the pairing a week before Slughorn was forced to split them up. In spite of his downfalls by way of charms, Deliro was exceedingly skilled in potions. Tom would have much preferred Lestrange as a partner over Miss Worchol.

"Well, shall we begin?" Slughorn said in his daft-cheery voice as he commenced the lesson. Tom listened but had difficulty focusing. The images that swam before his eyes refused to leave him alone. Why had he held her so tenderly and said such sweet things? Had she spelled him, had she poisoned him? Tom's keen sense of magic was perpetually probing for an answer but came up blank each time. While he sat there politely, his guise of stone unbreakable, within him he shouted at her...

Just, who are you!?

She loved potions, it was her favorite subject and nothing could ruin that. She looked at the board, why was he having them brew a love potion? They were forbidden to use or even have on school property. She mentally shrugged it off. It was an intricate potion, he would probably banish all the samples once they were graded. She carefully started preparing all of the ingredients first rather then jumping straight in to her potion. It did not take long to brew, but if you weren't careful about the prep it could be a big problem. "You can start brewing it while I take care of this" she said dismissively to Tom as she continued chopping horn beetles.

"Now can anyone tell me what a love potion is supposed to smell like?" Slughorn asked over the sound of bubbling potions and chopping. "It supposed to smell like whatever smell you find most attractive. Which is why to one person it might smell like flowers, while the same potion could smell like sandalwood to another person..." some Gryffindore girl piped up before she was called, Ginny tuned out the girls answer, already knowing the properties of a love potion.

She hoped they could work together in silence not bother with any more problems. Her head was really starting to kill her. As the potion was near its finishing point the room smelled like warm cinnamon to her. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from groaning, why? Just why did it have to be cinnamon?

Silently, and without need to consult one another they began to prepare the ingredients to their love potion. Tom was mildly impressed with how adept she was during their preparations. She handled each ingredient with care and ensured that all were divided and chopped in the correct manner. When he realized that all that was left to do was to chop the horn beetles, he began to reach for the ingredients to begin the brew, just as she pushed them towards him. He furrowed his brow at her as she turned away from him and began to chop. They were far too synchronized in their thought and movement than Tom would like. Far more so than even he and Deliro were when working together. He fiddled his thumb around his ring absently and watched her for a moment.

Just who was she to him?

He handled each ingredient with care. Potion making was a fine art, something that couldn't be rushed or done with anything but the most delicate of hands. Across the room, Nott was setting the brew on fire and the girl sitting beside him screamed. Idiot. He had likely dropped the reacting root into the pot carelessly instead of lowering it in slowly, as was needed. Certain ingredients needed to be added in gently, others must be submerged at all once. Some were less potent when paired with others, and Tom needed to add a pinch or two more than the instructions within their books said.

"Damn." Hissed Lestrange out of the corner of his mouth beside him. Orion rolled his eyes and sprinkled in the ingredients in front of him. "Tom..." Deliro began but Tom cut it off.

"Twist it, don't crush it." He replied dismissively, not even looking up from his book or his ingredients. Deliro had mostly relied on Tom's expertise in order to get into the Slugclub. Brilliant with potions but not as quick on his feet as he needed to be. Nevertheless he was ever-trusting in Tom and followed his instructions to twist the hard stem of the purple plant instead of crushing it. The milk within poured out much smoother and without any pieces of the stem itself falling into the brew.

Tom and Ginevra's potion, in the end, was the only one in the class brewed to total perfection. As Slughorn would expect from his favorite student. "The two of you make an excellent team." He said proudly before moving on to the next cauldron.

As soon as she finished bottling her potion sample she walked to Professor Slughorn desk. She set down her sample, flashing him a charming smile. She knew Slughorn was a pushover for a pretty face and she was far more innocent looking than most, making her far more dangerous. " Professor Slughorn?" She said in a sweet voice.

"Yes Ms. Worchol?" He asked blinking at her. She knew in her own time she could con Slughorn into signing anything she needed, she hoped she could get him to give her what she wanted now. "I was hoping you could sign this pass for me to enter the restricted section of the library?" She asked, flipping her hair flirtatiously. She was hoping to distract him enough not to read her pass, she wanted to have her year long unrestricted access to the restricted section. "I was hoping to do some extra research for my N.E.W.T.S" she said

"It's so wonderful to see such ambition. Though with how well you did today you won't really need the extra if you keep it up" he said with a laugh that jiggled his multiple chins.

Tom moved leisurely as he collected his belongings and made his way out of the classroom. As he was with everything that he did but he had learned many years ago to stop trying to avoid Slughorn's gaze. He was a collector, a man who lived to share in the glory of the success of those he taught. He surrounded himself with excellence and prayed to catch some of the light that radiated off them. Tom, unfortunately, was one of those blessed stars that Slughorn prayed to and it was only upon rare occasion that he found the opportunity to slip out of the classroom unnoticed. Fortune, it seemed, was smiling on him this day as he saw that the Professor was already distracted by Ms. Worchol and her charming smile. He knew that smile, it was the same one that he fabricated upon his own mask on a regular basis. Why could none see her as he did?

"Uh," Nott began while he and Avery shot curious looks at the creature that trailed behind Tom. The thing had paced outside of the classroom doors and waited for him and now followed after him like the most loving of companions.

"Don't ask." Tom said, suddenly tired. He smoothed his brow with his middle finger and closed his eyes momentarily. Emotionally, he was drained. He had very little patience left for Avery, Nott and their foolishness. His head ached and he longed for solitude. Prior to this day, each time that he had ached for loneliness it had been within the Chamber that he had thought to seek it. She had tainted that sacred place though. He knew now that he could not step into the place of his birthright without being reminded of the assault on his brilliant mind. As the criminal in question sauntered off in the direction of the library, loathing washed over Tom but beneath that loathing was a thin layer of curiosity.

Ginny sighed, looking at the note in her hand. This would make her life so much easier. She didn't need to sneak in to the library at night in order to research side effects of dealing with a horcrux. She smirked as she started out of the classroom, he was making it far to easy to toy with him. Abraxas Malfoy joined Tom and his group as they were leaving the classroom.

She sauntered out, looking at the note in her hand, pretending not to see him as she walked right in to him. "Oh mercy me" she said in a demure voice. "I am so very sorry Missster Riddle, I just didn't see you there" she said innocently, accidentally drawing out the 's'. Unbeknownst to her it was a tell tale sign of someone who was new to the gift. For someone her age the only way to be new to the gift was to have stolen it with a dark ritual.

"I really must run. I have something's to research in the library while I have a free hour" she said walking off in the direction of the library, putting up a shield in case Tom got any ideas of hexing her. "What could she possibly have to research on the first day of classes?" Abraxas asked stupidly. "I mean, in two classes she has proven she is as smart as you, what could she need to research?"

Tom had every intention of ignoring the troublesome girl. After all that occurred within such a short period of time, he had decided that the only suitable solution to his dilemma was to avoid the red head at all costs. Each time he was close to her, his brilliant mind became slightly clouded. There was no telling when those terrible delusions would overtake his consciousness and leave him to their mercy. These intrusions occurred only when she was near and therefore it was important for him to keep her far from him. At least, that had been his intention. Of course, that was before he caught that unmistakable hiss in her voice. His head turned and he watched her back as she strutted away from him, his eyes narrowed and focused.

She wasn't like him after all. She was not blessed as he was with the natural ability to communicate with serpents. She was new to the practice... She had stolen the gift from someone else. But how?

That wicked girl.

Tom's mood was prickly, to say the least. When his gaze fell on Abraxas after the fool uttered things he shouldn't have, the look in Tom's eyes was enough to make all of the boys around him shrink away. Nott covered his mouth in horror and Deliro watched with sick fascination. Never before had they seen the sort of look that Tom wore now. The slightest spark would make him explode, the tiniest touch and Malfoy would be blown into a million tiny pieces. They all held their breath, afraid to move.

"Malfoy, you have five seconds to get out of my sight." Tom said coolly. He'd never seen that pale-haired boy sprint so fast. "I'm going to the library," Tom added in a distant voice.

"Tom, did you -"

"Alone."

She was unaware of anyone following her. She was to busy wrapped up in her own plans. Him being her potions partner was a good thing. Once she destroyed the diary then she could make his death look like a potion accident. Dozens of explosive combinations played in her mind, oh the wonderful ways she could destroy the man who ruined her life.

"Ah my ssweetest." She hissed as Nygin appeared from around the corner. "Have you found it?" She asked her familiar in a soft whisper, she thought the hall was empty. "No hatchling. The smell of darkness is so strong around everything it is hard to distinguish. I will keep looking." The snake replies, curling on top of Ginny's shoulders. "Itsss alright love, I have faith you'll find it, but soon. The longer I'm here the more I worry I won't be able to go home." She stopped hissing as she entered the library, heading for Madam Romilda's desk.

Ginny handed her pass to the librarian. Since it was a year long pass the librarian was supposed to hold on to it. She unlocked the restricted section, humming a soft lullaby to herself as she looked for that might have information on horcruxes. As she was going along she found several interesting books that might help. 'Magic in its darkest form' and 'Soul Magic' both had references to soul fracturing in the table of contents. She put both in her bag, placing a curse on her bag so if anyone but her tried to open it they would be covered in painful boils.

She was about to leave and go read the books in her dormitory when one book seemed to jump out at her. 'Mastering you mind, by Matilda Wurmp' the book did not look like anything special, it was an old leather bound book, barely an inch thick. But it seemed to call out to her, something in the back of her mind told her this book was special and important.

She picked up the book, flipping it open to a random page.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Removing False Memories and Disguise Altered Memories<strong>_

_'The mind is a delicate thing and messing with it can have disastrous consequences. You should never alter someone else's memories. Memories are what make us who we are, they are reminders of where we have been and a map to where we are going. Memories are sacred and often precious things that power many magic spells we choose to cast. Protective magic often requires happy memories, while darker spells that are designed to inflict pain on others use memories of hatred._

_Mind altering curses are very different from implanted memories. A mind altering curse can be anything from a compulsion charm to an obliviation charm. If you have been victim of implanted memories there are few options open to you. The removal must be done based on the person who cast the mind altering spell. If that was done in secret it's hard to determine how to proceed. The main thing to remember is; when dealing with implanted memories there are always hidden memories attached to the implanted memories. These can be dangerous, as entangling the false memories from the suppressed memories can create tares and rips in the mind._

_Most mind altering curses can be removed by a simple purging charm. However when it comes to the art of implanting false memories and hiding old ones it is very difficult to purge the spells from someone's body. In order to achieve the most desired outcome their mind must already be rejecting the altered portions for the process to even work. Should the spell be used and their mind is not rejecting the memories it is very likely to kill the person._

_The mind rejecting false memories can look like very different, depending on the witch or wizard affected. It can present as severe headaches and an inability to process memories when requested to recite something from memory. The witch or wizard affected may display rapid personality changes if the implanted memories are affecting the host personality. The muggles have described this phenomenon in their own kind as having multiple personalities, while this mental disorder may present naturally in muggles it does not in magic folk, and if the witch or wizard is displaying this symptom it is due to a false memory being rejected by their magical core._

_However, the most common sign of memories being rejected in favor of true memories is a waking dream like state. The host witch or wizard will be doing something inconsequential when the memory is triggered. Many have described it as being pulled toward something. It is widely agreed it feels like a mild mixture of being pulled by a port key and appariting. This is the best evidence of false memories being rejected, the attempt to purge the false memories should be taken as quickly as possible. As the mind can not fully reject the false memories on it's own. Prolonged exposure to fractured memories can lead to a state of mania that can become permanent._

_It takes a large amount of magic to create false memories and an equal or greater source of magic to remove them. In all the research done on false memories implanted by supreme magics the victim never survived the removal process.'_

* * *

><p>She stopped reading, her eyes drawn to two words in an elegant script at the bottom of the page. Ginny knew she shouldn't, reading anything resembling a spell out loud out of a book like this could have disastrous consequences. But a comforting voice was whispering to her, telling her it was okay to say them.<p>

"Puritas Mentis" she dropped the book, letting out a blood curling scream that echoed in the silent library. She felt like her head was exploding, every synapse was firing at once. She collapsed on the ground, her body thrashing and seizing. Images flashed in front of her eyes, memories of Tom and of the chamber, memories of Dumbledore that didn't make sense. The memories were out of order and confusing, she didn't know what was happening and in seconds she only knew darkness. She laid there, collapsed and unconscious on the floor of the forbidden section. The book she had been holding floated its self back up on to the shelf. Looking as innocent as a book could. Leaving no one the wiser as to what happened to her.

"Good morning, Madame Romilda." Tom said with the utmost charm. He had been given leave to use the library as he pleased all summer and had become well acquainted with the librarian whom he had assisted in the organization of the books. Given that he was the only one that used them during the summer, it had been fitting for him to learn of their proper care and organization. He and the librarian had been fast friends because of this and she had barely batted an eyelash as Tom breezed past her and into the restricted section. He barely acknowledged her greeting though, as his mind was occupied with other things.

He was going to settle this nonsense. For two days the girl had been tormenting him and wreaking havoc on his wonderful mind. If she truly did possess the power to invade his mind then she was an individual that needed to be eliminated. However, if she had nothing to do with these hallucinations then it was paramount for him to understand what exactly this strange red head meant to him. Why did these images dance before his mind's eye? Why did he feel a degree of caring at the thought of her in peril? More importantly, why did any of this matter to him? She mattered. For whatever reason, she mattered, and he had resolved not to leave the library today without answers.

Answers, it seemed, would elude him once more as he suddenly heard a shrill cry of pain. Just as the scream rippled through the air a sudden pain pierced Tom's head. He had never been subject to headaches before yet this one hurt more than anything he'd experienced. He gripped his temples and felt his knees buckle slightly beneath him as he stumbled in the direction of the noise. When he saw Ginevra lying on the floor, her eyes rolling back into her head, his own pain was forgotten and he went to her side.

The moment he touched her to lift her head, the pain sharply stabbed at his brain again and without his say so, words that were not his own tumbled from his mouth.

"You forgot me, Ginny. How could you forget?"

"Tom, classes are starting..." Madame Dupely said from behind him. Tom didn't move. He remained where he had been sitting for the last three hours, perched in a chair at Ginevra's bedside, watching her sleep. She had yet to show any sign of consciousness and Madame Dupely was unable to tell what was wrong with her. Tom had skipped lunch and his canceled Herbology class and had only Charms left before the end of the day. Still, he was reluctant to move from the place that he had been so firmly rooted in since he had found her in the library, and carried her to the hospital wing. She felt strangely comfortable in his arms.

"You can always come back after class." The round woman behind him suggested. Another several moments passed and then, finally, Tom stirred. He lifted himself from where he was perched and gathered his bag, preparing to leave. Madame Dupely gathered the herbs and books she had been fussing over at Ginevra's bedside and hurried off to prepare another potion to pour down the red head's throat. Tom watched her go and then lingered at the foot of Ginevra's bed, mentally willing her one more time to wake up.

He still had questions that needed answers.

"Will you remember me?" He asked absently, unsure where the question had come from. He ran his hand over his face and debated his mental stability as he left the hospital wing and made for his Charms class. He would return to her bedside the moment it was done.

Images flashed before her mind like a muggle silent film with no subtitles. She could see the chamber, and instead of filling her with fear and hatred it filled her with such warmth and joy she wondered how anyone could fear such a peaceful place.

She would sit for hours on the Chamber floor, writing in his diary and studying her school work. His ghostly image would appear after a short while, sometimes just sitting beside her, other times helping her when a subject confused her. It wasn't till, in one image, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear that she finally heard what was being said.

* * *

><p><em>"Tom, I don't understand!" The small girl gave a frustrated yell. "Why do you want me to drink this?" She had only a limited knowledge of potions, but some how drinking something called the Drought of the Living Dead did not sound like a good idea. And she didn't understand how it wouldn't kill her, or why he wanted her to appear dying.<em>

_"Ginny, it has been altered a little. It is like the Drought of the Living Dead, but that isn't what it is exactly" he said, ever calm, holding the goblet out to the small girl in front of him. "But Tom..." She started to say when Tom cut over her "shhh, don't worry so much little one. It doesn't suit you." She looked at him with a questioning look. "Do you trust me?"_

_The question struck her as odd. How could he ask her that? She was devoted to him, she would do anything for him, all he had to do was ask. "Of course I trust you Tom. I trust you with my life." She said, looking up at him. "I love you" she said, eyes shining full of innocence only a child knew. "Then trust me now. Drink this and know I would never harm you. You are more precious to me then anything in this world" She reached out, taking the silver goblet in her hands. With one disdainful look at the cup, and one more confused look at Tom, she took a deep breath and downed the contents._

_She fell into a deep sleep, filled with a strange sensation of having more then one person in her head. It only seemed like a few seconds before a sharp pain ripped through her body. Her magical core feeling like it was being ripped from her body. Her eyes flew open and her hand clutched her heart, tears slipping down her cheeks as she looked around for comfort, for Tom._

_What she saw sent a fresh wave of pain through her. Silent heaving sobs shook her body as she looked at the destroyed diary, ink flowing from it's pages like black blood, she knew it had killed Tom. She felt numb, unaware of Harry holding her or being flown from the chamber by Fawks. All she knew was the pierced diary meant Tom was gone, and she was all alone now. He had promised he'd never leave her and he was gone._

_She didn't even notice as blood ran from where the wound on his arm had been, his blood dripping onto her hand, making the symbols she had drawn earlier glow an eery green before sinking into her skin._

* * *

><p><em>"You wanted to see me Headmaster Dumbledore?" Ginny asked in a melancholy voice, never taking her eyes off the floor. She had barely spoken since she had been taken from the chamber, she felt no desire to eat or even to sleep. All she did was read. She needed to find Tom again, no matter what it took. No book she had found in the library gave her any hope. Not that she really knew what to look for. Tom had only been a memory, trapped in a cursed diary. He had refused to tell her how he had made the diary, so she didn't even know how to recreate it. <em>

_"Yes Ms. Weasley, come sit down" his voice sounded so soft and kind, like a grandfathers, and it made her feel safe. She sat down on the chair across the desk from him, her eyes unfocused as she stared at the pattern on the floor. "Ms. Weasley, I want you to tell me what happened down in the chamber." Ginny refused to answer, letting out a soft sigh. When she didn't respond he tried another tactic "What has you so sad?" He asked kindly, his eyes calculating as he looked down at the small redhead, who seemed somehow smaller now then when she started school._

_Ginny just remained silent, remembering Tom's warning 'don't tell anyone what has happened. They will never understand and they will hurt you Ginny. You must be silent and careful.' She would never betray his trust, she would never betray him. He was her world, she would get him back._

_"Ms. Weasley?" He tried again, his voice sounding so kind and understanding. She didn't understand why Tom had been so adamant that she didn't speak to Dumbledore, he seemed genuinely worried about her. Maybe if she could think of a way to get him to help, with out telling him what happened then she could keep her word to Tom and get him back. "Did he cast the cruciatus on you?" He asked, finding it strange that he was unable to access her memories involving Riddle. Ginny's head snapped up, a fierce anger in her eyes. "No!" She screamed, jumping to her feet. It angered her that anyone would even suggest Tom would do something so horrible to her. Tom loved her, Tom protected her and helped her embrace her power. She was precious to Tom and he would never hurt her. "He would never hurt me like that! He is good, and kind and perfect!" She said with such conviction that would put any of his Death Eaters to shame. "He is none of those things Ginny. He tried to kill you" Dumbledore said as he studied her closely. "No he didn't! He loves me, and I love him! He would never hurt me!" She said again, angry tears sliding down her cheeks._

_What she saw in front of was the most frightening thing she had ever seen. Dumbledore's grandfatherly persona dropped and he looked at her with a dark gleam in his eyes and a twisted smirk on his lips. "Well now, we can't have that." He said, his voice sending chills down her spine. She was about to get up and run, but a gesture of his hand had her immobilized. She couldn't move a single cell of her body, not even to speak._

_"No Weasley has ever gone dark. And being in love with Voldemort is very dark. You could never be a good brood mare for Harry with those evil thoughts clouding your mind." He said, rounding his desk till he stood right in front of her. Fear gripped her soul as he appraoched her with a dark gleam in his eyes. She whimpered, instinctively calling for Tom. "He can't help you now" she whimpered again, scooting further back into the chair, crumbling into herself as if that would protect her. "You still have use yet. Stop being of use and you'll find yourself wishing for death" he threatened, grabbing her arm and pulling her to a standing position. His wand pressed painfully pushed into her temple, she couldn't hear what spell he said but the next thing she knew was waking in the hospital wing with Harry by her bedside. She told him everything she remembered. How Riddle made her set the basilisk loose, how he used the unforgivable curses on her, how sorry she was. "I didn't want to. Riddle made me. I'm so sorry Harry!" She had sobbed taking comfort in his hug._

* * *

><p>"Tom" Ginny mumbled in her sleep, slowly returning to consciousness. She could feel another potion slide down her throat, but she couldn't taste it. Just as light started to enter her vision it went black again and she was lost to the world of her mind.<p>

Her body started convulsing as the spells Dumbledore had placed on her battled her mind for control, draining her magical core trying to maintain their facade. If a witch lost her magical core, it was impossible to survive. It was as needed as blood, and some how in the deep recesses of her mind she knew she was dying. She needed Tom, she didn't know why, but only he could save her.

The walk back to the hospital wing was a leisurely one at first but the closer Tom got to the sick room, the more anxiety he could sense in the air. It wasn't until he rounded the corner and saw Eileen and Amaris clutching at each other weeping that an alarm rose in him. When they saw him they released each other's hands and turned to face him. He looked at them sternly, silently demanding an explanation as to why they were outside of the sick room weeping. Eileen stepped towards him, her hands fidgeting.

"Oh Tom, it's terrible." She blathered. "They made us leave." Eileen moved towards Tom as if to embrace him but he dodged her approach and brushed past Amaris who was wiping her eyes furiously with the sleeve of her robes. When he reached the doors of the room Professor Binns and Professor Kettleburn blocked his way. The classes for the Care of Magical Creatures were only available in the mornings, as the animals were less restless at that hour, which explained Kettleburn's presence, but not that of Professor Binns. Likely as not the ghost has just left his class and floated along to the hospital wing. Ghosts were unfit teachers as it was, but Professor Binns had only recently died and still became distracted constantly by his own surroundings. As a ghost things appeared much differently to him. Tom hadn't taken his History of Magic class since his third year.

"I can't let you in there, Tom." Professor Kettleburn said somberly. His plump stomach blocked the doorway but Tom could see straight through Professor Binns. On the bed, Ginevra was writhing and convulsing. Madame Dupely was once again trying to pour some concoction or another down her throat while Slughorn held her down. Beside Slughorn was a large trunk full to the brim with various ingredients, most of them likely already been used on Ginevra. At the foot of her bed, Professor Dumbledore stood next to Headmaster Dippet and watched with anxious eyes.

"He is head boy, and she is of his house..." Professor Binns said absently when he noticed the look on Tom's face. That was all the permission that Tom required before hurrying into the room, walking straight through Professor Binns.

"Mr. Riddle!" Headmaster Dippet said in surprise when Tom strode to Ginevra's bedside. Professor Dumbledore reached into his robes and placed a hand on his wand. Tom didn't fail to notice the gesture but was otherwise distracted.

Tom said nothing to any of the teachers in the room and ignored all the questions that they were asking him. They were demanding answers from him. Why was he here? What had happened to Ginevra? What was he doing? Slughorn seemed to understand immediately and watched with glittering eyes as Tom began to brew a potion there on the bedside table. He discarded ingredients he had no need for and rooted through Professor Slughorn's trunk that he had brought for the ingredients he needed.

"No, no! Leave him be." Professor Slughorn hissed at Dumbledore when the old man made an approach for Tom. "Hellebore? Tom, what are you..." But before the man could finish his question, Tom was on Ginevra. Hellebore, when combined with the proper plants, could be used as a sort of kick start. It was the magical equivalent to a muggle defibrillator for the brain. It would lash out and subdue whatever was causing the attack, eliminating it. The Professor clearly hadn't put two and two together though and as Tom poured the potion down Ginevra's throat, Dumbledore was on him. He had taken Slughorn's curiosity as an alarm and Tom was yanked off Ginevra by his arm, the vial and the remaining potion within it clattering to the floor.

The strange thing was, the moment Tom's hand had touched Ginevra's jaw to tilt her head back, she had calmed significantly. Before the potion even touched her lips, she was reacting to Tom's touch. The potion would do the medicinal work within her, but somehow it seemed to him like his mere presence was comfort. When his hand was torn away from her, her convulsions continued though this time not as severely. His potion was working.

"Wake up, Ginny!" Tom said to her as Dumbledore put the tip of his wand against the side of Tom's neck.

"Albus!" Slughorn gasped.

"Now, Dumbledore..." Headmaster Dippet began but Dumbledore was looking at Tom with hatred in his eyes. A darkness had washed over him and Tom knew exactly what he was thinking. He thought he had Tom caught, that he had used the Hellebore to poison Ginevra. The proof of the evil that he believed so earnestly was within Tom. After a moment though, when Ginny's body calmed and the color returned to her cheeks, Dumbledore's grip loosened.

She could hear her name on his lips, one word seemed to cut through the fog that swirled through her brain. 'Wake up, Ginny!' She could hear his voice, a beacon guiding her into the light. Slowly her convulsions slowed until they seemed like mere muscle ticks. Her eyes flew open, cloudy and unseeing as Tom's potion helped her magic purge itself.

Thick plumes of purple smoke spilled off of her, swirling around the room and dissipating. As soon as the smoke stopped her eyes slid closed and her body stopped moving completely. For a minute it seemed like she wasn't breathing until a raspy voice whispered. "I knew you would save me Tom" the words were so quiet they were easy to miss.

She opened her eyes, squinting against the light. It took several long seconds for her mind to clear completely. She rubbed her head, not quite sure where she was. When she finally looked around the hospital wing she felt every muscle in her body scream in protest. She felt like she had just been run over by a herd of hippogriffs and hit with a dozen bludgers. "Bloody hell" she mumbled, aware it was not polite or common for ladies of this time to use the phrase, it just slipped out. The medi-witch must have heard her judging by the scandalized look. "Here you are dear." Ginny was vaguely aware of the medi witch pouring a pepper up potion down her throat.

Her eyes fell on Tom first, a soft smile gracing her lips and a look of happiness ghosting across her face. Tough she wasn't sure if Tom knew about her experience with the diary happiness swelled inside her to see him again. He looked just like she remembered him from many years ago, though now she appreciated how handsome he was. She could easily see how he could charm his way in to anything he wanted.

Then her eyes fell on Dumbledore. She kept her face confused, she needed to maintain her facade. But in her eyes several things flashed like gunpowder thrown on to embers. Hatred. Anger. Rage. And a slight mania. She would kill the bastard for what he did to her. Modifying her memories, forcing her to bend to his will, lying to the whole world about Tom. He would pay dearly, she would make his death slow and painful.

"Headmaster?" She forced herself to look away from Dumbledore and look at Dippet. "Sir, what happened?" She asked flashing an innocent smile. "I was hoping you could tell us. You were found collapsed in the restricted section of the library." He said in what Ginny assumed was concern, though with his monotone voice it was hard to tell.

She screwed up her face in concentration, making it look as if she was trying hard to remember something. "Professor Slughorn had just given me permission to use the restricted section to do extra research this year." She said in a slow voice. Inwardly she was smiling. All the professors were eating up her story, save for maybe Dumbledore. "I went to go get some advanced potions material, so I could start my study for my N.E.W.T.S. I don't remember anything after entering the library." She lied, her voice cracking with fake tears. "Headmaster, what happened? I feel so bad." She said

She racked her mind for anything that could make her cry. Her uncle dying? When Harry almost died? When she saw the diary lying broken on the floor. As soon as that image entered her mind tears slid down her cheeks, she hid her smile by looking at her lap. "I'm so sorry I can't remember headmaster. I am trying" she sniffled, smirking at her lap.

She was lying...

Why was she lying?

Tom could recognize when the veil went up over Ginny's face and her mask was being used. He knew because he recognized the same tells that he often found in himself when such an instance arose for him. It wasn't hard to pick up on. The hollowness of her words, in ingenuity of her tone, the slight aversion of the eyes or the hiding of her facial expression. These were all tells that she was pretending, but why she was pretending he couldn't say. It was difficult to understand someone so much like himself, Tom was finding. What had happened to her had been real. He knew because he was the one who had found her. Why then was she feigning ignorance? Did she know something about what had occurred? It seemed each time he thought he had found an answer, he came up with only more questions. What was even more peculiar was the way she looked at him.

He was too busy noticing the way she was looking at him to notice the fact that Dumbledore still held his wand to his neck. The other teachers, previously aghast at the Professor's blatant threat to a student, were now occupied with the fussing of Ginevra. It was only once the red head's fiery eyes flickered to Dumbledore that he was shaken from his daze. He saw the hatred there, burning in the pit of those dark pupils. It was almost as great as his own hatred for the man.

She bit her tongue to keep her mouth shut when she noticed the wand threatening Tom. An intense need to lash out at the person threatening him gripped her soul. She tried to focus on something else instead, taking smug satisfaction knowing Dumbledore would never defeat Tom, none of his threats would ever carry any weight.

While Ginevra babbled her falsities to the teachers, Tom flicked away Dumbledore's wand with a nonchalant brush of his hand. It were as though he didn't care, as though he felt no threat emanating from the Professor. Dumbledore was more experienced, possibly more powerful than Tom. The insult he took from Tom's nonchalance was great and he could see it read across his wrinkled face. Of course, Ginevra's display of disdain might also have something to do with the face Dumbledore now pulled. The old man was already forgotten to Tom as he moved towards the sick bed.

"Miss Worchol, are you alright?" Tom asked, resisting the unfamiliar urge to reach out and touch her. Almost needing a physical assurance she was alright.

"She is thanks to you!" Slughorn swooned. "Why, I've never seen such quick thinking, and to use Hellebore as such! Tom, I must make note of this for future academic purposes..." Slughorn prattled on but Tom ignored him, focusing instead of the red head girl before him.

"Are you dizzy or light of head?" He asked her, studying her face and eyes. The color had returned to her cheeks now and she seemed responsive. Whatever it was that had caused the attack, it was over now. He never took her eyes off her and completely ignored the teachers around him.

From the way Tom was looking at her she could easily see he knew she was lying. After all, he was near impossible to trick, especially when he was the one who taught her how to play this game. All her skills of manipulation were learned from him, her tricks were his and she knew his tells as well as he could probably read hers. At this point she didn't care, she was not trying to trick Tom, just the teachers. None of them could know her interest in the dark arts, or how deep she had already immersed herself in them. None of them could know her devotion to Tom, even if he didn't know it yet. And Dumbledore could not know he had cursed her and she had broken it. If he knew she would break his hold on her, in the future, he might do something worse.

"I think so Tom" she said in a soft melodic voice, using his name for the first time since arriving in 1945. "I'll be alright" she promised as she sat up a little more in the bed, her muscles groaning in protest.

She watched as he moved closer to her bed side, a small smile gracing her lips. The rest of the hospital wing melted away. No more professors hovered around her, no medi witch fussed over her. All she saw was the man in front of her, just her and Tom.

She never broke eye contact with him, the darkness she saw swirling in his icy blue eyes was so comforting. "I'm a little light headed, but its clearing up." She said, placing a hand on top of his. "I'll be alright" her voice was soft when she spoke to him. "Thank you" she added. She watched him, trying to mentally convey she would tell him everything later.

She felt a strange electricity run up her hand and arm from where she had touched him. She drew her hand back a few inches, looking at her. Blue magic seemed to linger on her fingers for a second where she had touched him.

She called him by his first name and placed his hand on his affectionately. Surely she must have gravely injured herself , or perhaps he had done some damage to her head with his use of Hellebore, for there was no conceivable way that she would be showing this much care and affection towards him so suddenly. He was baffled by her sudden display of friendship towards him and the look in her eyes was so earnest that he had no choice but to believe it. She truly did seem changed in her opinion of Tom. Was that due to his saving her? Did she hear him while she slept? What could have inspired such a change?

Yet more questions to add to the ever growing list.

"Good." He said calmly as he flexed his hand. There was a strange tingling in the place where she had touched, like a thousand tiny volts of electricity sizzling beneath the surface of his skin.

"Mr. Riddle, your assistance is so appreciated." Madame Dupely said sweetly as she placed a thin hand on his shoulder. "We're just going to check a couple more things to make sure she's alright. Would you mind giving us some privacy? Everyone." She said, addressing not only Tom but the teachers as well. Tom nodded politely and then turned to Ginny.

"I'll wait for you in the common room." He told her. She nodded, letting him understand she knew he was demanding an audience with her.

"What a fine master of potions I have made you into!" Slughorn said, tapping him on the shoulder proudly.

"Yes, that truly was impressive." Professor Kettleburn agreed, folding his hands on the top of his round stomach.

"This heroism won't go unrewarded Tom, I assure you!" Headmaster Dippet piped in. Their words were hollow in his ears and had no meaning. He barely even heard the sound of their prattling voices or understood the words, for his mind was lost in thought. As he exited the room, he looked behind him once more to Ginny, flexing the hand that still tingled. Dumbledore had lingered behind to speak to Ginny it seemed. That made Tom uneasy. However a sudden sense of trust echoed in the back of his mind toward her. The reason behind that, like all his other questions, he'd just have to wait for.

She ignored Sughorn, he was an attention seeking parasite. Getting his jollies off the fame of other. She had no use for whatever he was prattling on about this time. Even Dippet's words seemed dull in her ears, as if she weren't hearing them. She had been so horrible to him the last few days, she had felt such a strange compulsion to hate Tom. It must have been another spell of Dumbledore's. She was trying to figure out how she would explain everything to him. She could help but wonder if he would send her home. After all, she was here on a mission to kill him, and now that she had no desire to do that she had no purpose to be fifty-three years in the past.

She broke from her thoughts when Madame Dupley ushered everyone out. Ginny looked at Tom and nodded her head. She recognized the veiled command. He wanted her to come to the common room and meet him as soon as she was finished. "Professor?" she said after a second hesitation, uncomfortably aware of the fact that Dumbledore had not moved from the foot of her bed. Surly he had no idea what really happened. How could he? He cursed her in the future, he had no way of knowing she had broken free from his control. "Is there any other questions you have for me?" she asked softly.

"Madame Dupley, I feel fine. I'm just a little sore" Ginny said tersely, looking around for her bag. It was several feet out of her reach, sitting on a chair with her wand. A slight panic gripped her, though her face remained blank. She didn't know enough wandless magic to defend herself if Dumbledore tried anything. "Could I please just go? I promise I'll take it easy." She said softly.

"Of course dear." Madame Dupley cooed. "As soon as I get a few potions for you to take with you, you can go back to your dormitory." The woman disappeared in to her office, seemingly unaware that Dumbledore had not left when instructed.

But Ginny was aware he hadn't moved, she saw the tension in his shoulders and the slight raising of his wand. She mentally willed the healer to come back and fuss over her. She wanted to kill Dumbledore, she hated him for what he did to her. But she wasn't stupid. Dumbledore was powerful, extremely powerful, and she was with out a wand at the moment. She was almost completely defenseless.

"Ms. Worchol." His cold voice cut through her thoughts like a hot knife. She reinforced her Oclumency shields, she was stronger then she was the last time. Hopefully he wouldn't try the same thing. "You have chosen to walk a very dangerous path." He said

"What do you mean, Professor?" She said, cocking her head to the side and looking up at him with wide confused eyes. To most eyes she was the picture of innocence. But Dumbledore was not most anything.

"Cut the act Ginevra." The words caught her slightly off guard. She weighed her options carefully. She could fool every other staff member, no one would believe his accusations about little innocent Ginny Worchol. She sat up straight, drawing her self to as much of her full height as possible while sitting, looking up at him with a cold hatred. "What do you want you old goat?" She demanded, wanting nothing more then to go to Tom and explain everything. She hoped he wouldn't send her home.

"You would do best to stay away from Thomas Riddle. He is to far lost to the darkness to spare any concern for the life's of those around him." He said in a cryptic voice, though Ginny just found it annoying. "He would kill you with out a thought." He studied her hard, his expression difficult to read. He seemed to be sizing her up. "Though it seems that his darkness has already consumed you."

She stood up on shaky legs trying to hold her normal grace, grabbing her bag off the chair. She wasn't going to wait for the healer, she needed to get out of here before anything happened. She pulled her wand from her bag, not aiming it at him but also not putting it away. The threat was clear. He looked enraged that this little girl had the nerve to threaten him.

"I will figure out what has been done, and when I do I will see both you and Tom locked in Azkaban." He said. Ginny laughed, the sound hollow and cold. "There is nothing you can do old man. You can't prove anything." She said, shouldering her bag. "Tom is more of a wizard, and a man, then you will ever be." She raised her wand slightly, aiming it at Dumbledore.

"It's not wise to threaten someone who knows more then you do Dumbledore" she threatened, a twisted smirk settling on her lips. Just as he was about to say something the healer came out, a small box and a vial in her hand. "Ah Albus, good. I actually need to speak with you for a minute." The woman said, oblivious to the thick tension in the room.

"Now, take these with each meal for the next two days and you'll be right as rain." The healer giggled, handing Ginny the box and a single vial. "Drink this now, and you may go. Do not strain yourself, or you'll find yourself back here." Ginny opened the vial, a sickly sweet smell reaching her nose. She smirked up at Dumbledore. She raised the vial "to plans for the future" she smirked, drinking the potion. She did not miss the deadly glare Dumbledore gave her at her small toast.

She didn't hear what Madame Dupley was prattling on about. But she had seen the look of fury of his face and was acutely aware of his eyes boring a hole in her back and that his wand was trained on her. She raced down to the dungeon as much as her sore muscles would let her, moving as fast as she could with out running. It was not good breeding to run around like that.

She reached the picture of Salazar Sytherin, her heart racing in her chest. Excitement and anxiety flowed through her as she uttered the password. After a second she stepped inside, a little nervous and unsure how she would explain this whole thing to Tom.


	4. Low Tide

Summary:

The war was not going well, in fact, Dumbledore and his army were losing badly. They needed a secret weapon. But they could not change current events. Or could they? That thought sparked a brilliant idea. Send someone back to a time to kill Tom Riddle before he can become Voldemort. But who should they send? They needed someone they knew he would let into his circle of close followers. The person also had to be someone they never thought would turn against them. The only person that matched that was Ginny. She would never turn on Harry or her family. What happens if she goes back, and instead of killing Tom, she falls in love with him. After all, he was seventeen when he controlled her with the diary. What can she do when faced with the man she was in love with when eleven years. Feelings as strong as that never truly leave you. What if she does not kill him, but comes back as his evil queen?

Authors note:

Here is chapter four! I'm glad you like it so far. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. I shall post chapter five soon. Also, this story will contain graphic violence. Don't like it? Feel free not to read it. No one is forcing you... I realize that sounds mean, but I hate getting nasty comments about the violence in my stories when I give clear warning and it's rated M... Anyway, I digress. I will make it clear before I start, so you can skip that part if you would prefer.

Disclaimer:

I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. Face it, if I did I am sure it would not have turned out nearly as well as what came out of J.K's mind. Lol, it would have been a dark book, and old Dumbles would have died in book one... Anyway... Onto the story!

Story: Mislead Loyalties

Chapter: Low Tide

Reviews:

Guest who reviewed chap 3. I'd love if you'd add your name to the comment so I don't have to call yo guest :) Lol, but no. Dumbledore is over confidant in his skills over well... Everyone. It would never occur to him that after six years Ginny would break through his spells. As for the future, you'll have to wait and see :) I don't want to give away story secrets.

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><p>"We heard about what happened to Ginny." Nott said as they flocked around him, following Tom into the common room.<p>

"Yeah, is she alright?" Avery asked, piping in. Mulciber shot them a silencing glare but just to make the point clear, Lestrange decided to put in his own two cents.

"Piss off about it, eh?" He growled. For a pureblood, Deliro had a foul mouth. It was part of his unpredictably quirky charm. He was a gentleman one instant, a lunatic the next. It was all the pieces of him that made him such an enigma to the other students at Hogwarts. So they boys didn't even have to look at Tom to know that they were dismissed and silently went their own ways in the common room.

"Boys, clear the common room." Tom instructed Nigel and Deliro as he made his way to one of the comfortable sitting areas. It wasn't uncommon for Tom to request the room be cleared. Should he need to map out a plan with his lackeys or do some private research or reflection, he had the other Slytherins retire to their chambers, which were fully equipped with desks, ink and lamps. There was no need for them to linger in the common room and so of course they had no problem vacating it for their precious Head Boy. When Tom was left alone in the room he dismissed Mulciber and Lestrange with a wave of his hand and leaned back in the comfortable chair he sat in. Before him, the fire burned in the large pit that was ornately designed with various serpents. As he sat there, watching the flames dance before him, he reviewed what he knew of this strange Polish red head.

She was pure of blood, that much was obvious. She was also very clever and for whatever reason, she wore a mask much like the one Tom wore on a regular basis. What he did know for certain was that, in spite of her mask, he knew that up until an hour ago she had hated him with a blinding fury. The reason of this hated, he could not place. Just as it wasn't hard to see her hatred for him, it wasn't hard to figure out that her mask must be to disguise her own sort of darkness. She spoke parseltongue, but the gift was not one that she inherited, but instead stole. It would take a powerful witch and a dark ritual for a thing like that to occur, which clearly meant that she was strong. However, was she strong enough to be playing memory charms on Tom so subtly and so regularly? No. That was impossible. Memory charms were too delicate to be done with wandless magic and in one of instances that his mind had been pervaded, she had empty hands. Well, empty aside from his own hand cradling hers. He tried not to think of that. This left the origin of these visions a complete mystery to Tom. He was certain though, that it had something to do with his diary.

His fingers were busy, toying with the ring on his finger, but the weight of the diary against his hip beneath his robes gave him comfort. He had never been so confused or uncertain in all of his life. He had never felt so defenseless.

Just who was Ginevra Worchol?

The moment that the doors of the common room swung open, Tom knew that it was her. He froze in the place where he was sitting, his finger fixed on his ring. He averted his eyes from the hypnotic fire and smoothed his robes as he stood. He turned around to face her and again there was that strange look in her eyes. If he weren't so stoic, Tom would have shifted uncomfortably beneath that stare. Instead he folded his hands behind his back and gave her a polite nod in greeting. When she stepped into the room, he gestured to the chair across from the one he just lifted himself from.

Ginny was a bit nervous when she entered the common room. She had no idea how she would handle this. How could she explain everything from the chamber to Dumbledore cursing her. How could she explain she was from fifty years from the future and here to kill him, but she didn't want to kill him...

She groaned, a large headache forming. This was going to be a long night. She was not surprised that he had the common room emptied, she had a feeling he knew something big was going on. She was almost curious what conclusions he had come to.

"Sit," he said. The tone was polite but beneath it there was an edge to his voice. He was tired of playing cat and mouse with this girl and he wanted his answers from her.

She sat across from him and he took his own seat as well. Each move he made was a cautious one as he studied her. Would he be rocked by another attack on his mind? Would she have another fit and begin convulsing again? Tom had never been fond of unpredictability. He liked consistency, he liked control and this girl was not like that at all.

"Start talking." He said sternly, resting an elbow on the armrest of the chair.

She clenched her jaw, annoyed by the way he was speaking to her. She might not want to kill him anymore, but there was no way she would put up with his bullying. She sat down across from him, crossing her legs, studying him from where she sat.

A smirk settled on her lips as she looked at him. "What in our time together makes you think I will do something simply because you say to?" She asked, though her voice sounded more amused then angry. Sure, she planned on telling him everything, but she did so enjoy these games. It would be a shame to stop now.

It was easy to tell how nervous she was by how she was behaving as she sat before him. Her hands fidgeted slightly, behind her mask her face was twisted in an expression of uncertainty and her eyes that Tom liked so well were averted. He watched her curiously as she sat before him. The snap in his voice had not been intended as rude or intrusive, even though that was clearly how Ginevra translated it. He was simple impatient, eager for answers. In fact, he had run out of patience quite long ago with this strange girl. He wanted answers from her or he wanted to wash his hands clean of her and forget her. Only one of the two would bring him any solace after all that had occurred. He knew that something had changed, but he just didn't know what.

"The way you looked at me." He answered calmly, no snap to his voice this time though his face remained stoic and indifferent. Those eyes of hers… he couldn't look away. Nor could he erase the image of those eyes and how they had looked at him from his mind. She had to tell him, she just had to.

From behind him, Tom could hear the sound of something rubbing against the black couch. He didn't have to look to know that the one-time-toad was still stalking him. He was certain of it when he felt the creature weave between his feet and then come to sit in between them, peering up at Ginevra. Such a strange animal, so hungry for affection… He didn't have the time or the care to wonder about how this newly formed cat felt about him. His concern was how Ginevra felt, maybe even how she felt about him. Did he really care about that? Could he let himself? So many questions, so many curiosities, and none of them have yet to be answered. Hopefully the fiery red head before him could change all of that now.

She was slightly taken aback by the almost kindness in his voice. Did he remember her? Did he remember all those nights he soothed her through his diary after a nightmare? Did he remember telling her to focus on her lessons because he couldn't have his little Ginny failing a class? A hopeful smile settled on her lips as she looked at him.

"Aw, you don't like playing games with me?" She asked with an innocent smile. "It's such a shame Tom, you're the one who taught me how to play. Your rules weren't to hard to learn and now the student has surpassed the master before the lesson has even begun." She said with a small laugh. If this weren't so convoluted this whole situation might have been funny.

"You remember when we were dancing? How we seemed to be in the Chamber of Secrets? Though I'm assuming you noticed I may have looked slightly different then I do now." She said with a sigh, hoping her words made sense. "You created a diary two years ago." It was a statement, not a question. She knew he had done it two years ago, no one would go near that loo yet and students still whispered about the heir of Sytherin. "Killed Merytle and tore off a piece of you soul to hide in its pages." She got a far off look in her eyes, memories of the chamber flashing before her minds eye as she spoke, her own words sounding garbled and far away in her ear.

"It's hard to interact so much with someone's soul and walk away unaffected." She said, her eyes unfocused as she stared over his shoulder. Her mouth moved of its own accord, absentmindedly telling him what was on the tip of her tongue. Her mind a million miles away... Or at least fifty years away. "I was eleven you know." She said in a voice barely above a whisper. "You were the first true friend I ever had. You had my complete devotion. I loved you. But what does a child know about love?" She asked, her voice sounded bitter almost. She had loved Tom with all the innocence a child had, he didn't return her affections. Or so it seemed. And now it seemed such a far away trouble.

"You used me to try and kill the mudbloods" the word slipped past her lips with out a second thought. It didn't sound wrong in her ears. "Tried to kill me and Harry Potter, if you believe the rumors." She said with a small laugh, it disturbed her slightly how she sounded a bit like Bellatrix. She wondered briefly if she had gone round the twist, but dismissed the thought. She had clearly gone round the twist a long time ago when her mind warped to the darkness Tom so indulgently provided her. "In all actuality you and I spent a great deal of time together, you taught me more advanced magic then is offered at Hogwarts, horribly dark curses." She said with a sick fascination as she drew her wand.

She aimed it at the seat he was sitting on, though instead of cursing him she flicked her wand and drew out the transfigured cat from under his chair. "Little critters like this were what you had me practice on until I mastered every dark curse and spell you had for me. Even threw in a few rituals, though I have yet to find a use for the binding ritual." She said, lost in thought for a moment, unsure why he had taught her that one. A flick of her wand caused the cat's skin to peel away and slowly inflate. It took fifteen seconds for the cat to explode, spraying a thin mist of blood over the area, little red droplets landing on Ginny's face. "That had been my favorite, it's so fascinating to watch them expand to the point of popping." She closed her eyes as the sweet metallic smell sent her into a fond memory of her lessons of Tom. She had been quiet for several minutes, Tom cleared his throat, getting her attention.

"For a year I wrote in your diary, spilling my soul to you and I assume taking some of your soul in to me. It is the only explanation I can think of to explain why a memory from the chamber surfaced when you touched me. A connection formed between us that time can never tarnish" She said softly. "Or maybe it was just that song. It is such a wonderful song..." She added in a dreamy voice that did not match their conversation, her face showing her mind drifting to another thought. She shook her head, trying to focus on what she was saying. She had been trying to tell Tom something, it took her a second to remember where she left off. "After Potter stabbed the diary I was very depressed. Essentially he had just killed my only friend. He thought he was saving my life though."

"Then Dumbledore! UGH" she screeched angrily as she rose to her feet, her wand clenched tightly in her hand as she paced angrily back and forth. "That old coot used legilmency on me! Invaded my mind and tried to convince me you were evil, that you had tried to kill me." Now she seemed to be more talking to her self then Tom. "He tried to convince me you were evil, you were a monster." She ranted. "But I know you. I know you better then anyone. There is no good and evil. Just power and those to afraid to take it." She said not realizing she was repeating something he said to her many times before. "The old bastard altered my memories! Put a compulsion charm and an obedience charm on me!" She hissed angrily, her 's' being drawn out. Memories flashing in front of her minds eye, many of her memories were still lost, waiting to be retrieved.

"He dared to try and control me. Tried to manipulate me!" She didn't realize she slipped into parseltongue as she stalked back and forth, clenching her wand. "He dared to try and control something that belongs to someone else. I was a child, what could I do? There was no way to stop the bastard" Sparks started shooting from the tip of her wand as sheer magical power rolled off her in furious waves. "Then the bastard sends me back fifty three years in the past to do his bidding. Didn't count on me breaking his binds." She switched directions, pacing back and forth in front of the fire place. "I'll deal with him. I'll kill him. I'll be his assassin instead of his original plan." She smirked to herself, completely forgetting Tom was there. It would seem being under mind altering charms for so long had done a slight bit of damage, making Ginny more volatile and unstable then she would have been otherwise. "His beautiful plan will blow up in his face and when I go back home he won't be there, and who knows what will be different!" She let out a gleeful laugh, the sound dark and foreboding.

"When he's dead I'll go home and kill Potter, no one will see it coming." She muttered to herself. "No one suspects little innocent Ginny would go dark, but how could they not have known? Spending the better part of a year with Voldemort's soul. How could someone stay innocent? The poor saps won't know what hit them." She kept talking to herself. As her mind slowly returned from its fracture she slowed her pacing, blinking as she came back to reality.

She cleared her throat, sitting on the chair she had started in, looking for all the world as if nothing happened. "And now here I am." She smiled

She was stark mad. A raving lunatic. By God he wondered how he could have ever found her mind so exceptional... Then she mentioned his diary and his interpretation of the situation changed drastically.

How could she possibly know of that?

Not even Dumbledore had figured out that it was he who opened the Chamber of Secrets, he who sent the basilisk to purge the school of all those unworthy swine. By God how lovely it had been, to see them all wide-eyed and full of terror. It had been all the sweeter because it had been his own little secret, his own private joke. None suspected him, none even glanced his way. He offered kind words to those in fear, sweet condolences to the families of those affected. He had played his part beautifully, all the while painting targets of the backs of every witch and wizard that he deemed unfit. Truthfully, that qualified for about all of them. His secret, his wonderful dream, his comforting thought at night and she knew of it. She knew of it as though she lived it right alongside him. He wanted to be mad, he wanted to feel rage, but then her eyes glazed over and her look became distant. He'd seen that look before. Deliro had once talked of murdering a pretty little Hufflepuff that fancied him.

_"Would you snog her?" Rosier had asked._

_"Oh, no. I'd cut her open and see if her insides are just as pretty."_

His eyes had looked the same as Ginevra's did now. The expression she wore only slipped further into madness as she ranted further. About their relationship, their love. About someone named Potter, about Dumbledore's betrayal and her lust for his immediate extinction. She babbled on about time travel and all other matter of things that Tom attempted to connect together. Yet there was a sincerity about her lunacy, an honesty within her breakdown that made him inclined to entertain the ideas she was spewing. He was nearly about to begin clearing some things up for himself when she referred to him by his name. Not his stupid simple name, the one he inherited from his disgusting muggle father, but his true name. He had only just begun playing with it in his mind, there was no way for her to know it... that name. He'd yet to hear another say it out loud before and to hear it was like music to his ears, sweeter than the finest of symphonies. For a moment, he forgot Miss Worchol's mental instability.

"What did you just say?" He asked slowly.

"What did you just call me?" He repeated when he received no immediate reply. He stood from his chair, taking a step toward Ginevra. "Say it again."

"Oh um... Sorry" though they both knew she didn't mean it, her eyes refocused and her icy mask of indifference slipped back into place. She filed away the experience for future analysis. She wasn't sure what just happened. She had sat down to speak with Tom, to explain her sudden change. But as she started speaking her memories and words stopped making sense. Familiar faces in her mind twisted into unrecognizable shapes and words were mangled in to some bastard attempt at language.

Just as it felt instantaneous for her mind to scramble it felt like years for her brain to readjust to reality. The throbbing in her head subsided as she looked at him with a calculating look. Wondering why he had remained so quite. She had expected him to demand answers, insist she tell him every detail under threat of punishment. But he said nothing but one small question, a question that didn't make sense.

What had she called him? She had called him by his name. The name that sent pleasurable tingles down her spine and made others cower in fear.

It took her a second to realize what he meant. It was 1945, the name Voldemort would not become public knowledge for another ten years. Not even his Death Eaters, no they were called Knights right now. Not even his Knights would know his name for a few years.

A twisted smirk settled on her lips as he advanced on her. She knew he was trying to scare her. But if he only knew. A small eerie giggle left her lips at the thought. If he only knew the delicious horrors she knew he would preform, the things she had witnessed first hand... He would know not to waste his energy. She would never be afraid of him. She stood up, taking a step towards him in response to his own move.

"What?" She asked with an innocent smile. "Voldemort? Or is that just a fantasy?" She asked with a wicked gleam in her eye. How she loved baiting him. She loved playing the mind games he had taught her those few short year, that seemed like an eternity, ago. "A game for little boys to play?" she cooed.

It was just a fantasy, right now, that one day the world would cower at the feet of Lord Voldemort. But this girl did not seem afraid of the name, in fact she did not seem afraid of him at all. She was either the bravest girl he'd ever met or the dumbest. He was starting to lean towards the first option, even with the mental instability she seemed to be displaying she was the only witch who seemed to have a brain inside her pretty little head.

She stepped towards him, her thin, petite frame suddenly dwarfing his own tall lean one. His eyes never left hers and he waited on baited breath for that name to fall from her tongue again. She did not relent immediately, of course. She reeled him closer with flexed eyebrows and coy smirks. Challenging him, ever more, until the very end. Finally she said it and nothing had ever felt so good. It dripped from her tongue like melted chocolate and filled him up to each tiny crevice. The pleasure he received from it's utterance was far more than he had anticipated and he wanted to hear her say it again, and again, and again. He wanted it plastered in the skies and screamed from the mouths of babes.

_Voldemort._

She said it, not with fear or even with awe. She said it with respect. She said it with expectation. She said it as though she knew far more than he did about his own name. It was not a name when spoken from her tongue but rather a legend, and while he couldn't possibly fathom how she could know of it he was finding that the more times he heard her repeat it in his head, the less he cared. When she said it, it made it real. When the name tumbled from her mouth he felt like a wizard with such a name ought to feel. "Where did you come upon that name?" He asked, wondering if she was really from the future like she said she was.

Ginny moved closer to Tom, mere inches from him now. "When I'm from every one knows the name Voldemort" she said with a sadistic smile. "Most are to afraid of you to even speak your name. It is fascinating to watch grown adults across the entirety of wizarding England cower at your name" she whispered, stroking his ego. And what a marvelous job she was doing, Tom was getting more and more excited as she spoke. The possibilities were endless. She had knowledge of his future, if he played this right he could rule the wizard world and avoid any mistakes he had made on his first attempt. "You're not afraid of me?" He asked, looking her over.

"Tom, I could never be afraid of you" her words came out in a hiss, which was strange to hear in a sentence with no s'. She reached out and stroked his cheek, the second she felt his skin on her fingers she felt herself being pulled into another memory.

* * *

><p><em>A small Ginny cowered in the corner of her bedroom at the Burrow, the memory of Tom Riddle was standing over her with a soft expression. He held a translucent hand out to her, knowing she couldn't take his hand yet but still he longed to touch her. He longed for her touch like he had known so many years ago, but he couldn't have that. She was to young, still innocent in so many ways, she was not his Ginny yet. Even though he could not have what he craved yet, he could at least feel the touch of her hand, the brush of her hair. He missed her these many years.<em>

_"Ginny, my little Ginny, you do not need to be afraid of me." He said, his voice was deep, melodic and soothing. He knelt down, to look at her on her level. "Look at me little Ginny" he commanded softly, as not to startle her. She looked up at him, trying to look braver then she felt. She was a Weasley after all and Weasley's were always in Gryffindor, and Gryffindor's were supposed to be brave. She had started to write in her new diary only to have a spectral form of an older teenage boy emerge. He smiled at the fire that burned in her honey colored eyes he loved so much. It was not the fire he knew, the fire that caused her to challenge him and push him. But a fire was there, it would become the fire he loved. He could see in this small child so much of the woman she would become. "Who are you?" She asked, she was very pleased her voice came out steadier then she felt. "How are you here?" Now she was demanding and he could see the fire in her eyes spark up momentarily into the level it would become._

_"My name is Tom Riddle." He said, something in his voice calmed Ginny. It reminded her of how her father spoke to her mother. This handsome boy with the gentle voice couldn't be all bad. Could he? No one bad could speak so gently to her, could they? "And I'm not really here.. Take my hand." He instructed gently, trying a different approach to explaining the situation to his little Ginny. He couldn't come right out and tell her everything, he had to steer her toward who she would become. If he pushed to hard she would never become his fiery Ginny._

_She reached out a tentative hand, moving to take Tom's hand, shocked when her hand went right through his hand. She looked at him in shocked confusion. Why had he told her to take his hand? He must have known she would not be able to take his hand, what was the point of that? "Are you a ghost?" She asked before thinking about her question. No, he couldn't be a ghost... He emerged from the diary when she wrote in it. Maybe he was haunting the book. But what would he gain from haunting a seemingly empty book?_

_Tom chuckled at her softly, her tongue caught between her teeth, a tell tale sign of her being in deep concentration. "Do you think I'm a ghost?" He asked in an indulging tone. He remembered the look on her face right now, if he just spoke the answer to what she was thinking it would turn into her being mad at him for several hours. It was a habit of hers that simply drove him to distraction! "No. Why would you haunt a book? That seems incredibly boring... But then what are you?" She cocked her head to the side, looking up at him questioningly. "It's a diary, right?" Tom nodded, prompting her to continue her line of thinking. "Tom, is it possible to trap a memory in a diary? Like a pensive?" She asked, chewing on her tongue._

_Tom figured that was close enough for him to explain. "In a way, it is possible. But you can't interact with a pensive memory, can you?" Ginny shrugged "I've never seen a pensive." Tom continued, as if she hadn't said anything. "All you can do with a pensive is watch the memory of something that happened. I am the memory of Tomas Marvolo Riddle, stored within this diary, waiting to meet a very special redhead." Ginny looked up, a small smile on her face. "I am the memory of a persons soul, I can interact with you, show you things you never knew existed, teach you magic Hogwarts can only dream of." His words were seductive, she wanted to know things other people didn't. She wanted to be unique from her brothers, she wanted to do something none of them could do, she wanted more power then them. "And you can help me be real, with your help I can escape this diary and be a real person again." Regardless of the fact he knew the diary would be destroyed, he remained convinced he could alter that outcome because he knew what would happen. He would simply focus on killing Potter then kill the mudbloods._

_"You and I can take the world by storm, together" his ghostly fingers ran over her cheek in an affectionate movement. The way Ginny was looking at him unnerved him a little, he had only seen that look a select few times from her, and that look was normally followed by events he could not understand what she did to him. No matter how well he thought he knew this fiery red head he was convinced she would always be a mystery wrapped in an enigma._

* * *

><p>All at once, the space between them, small as it was, seemed far to great a distance. He wanted to close that space and reach out to her. Whether to wrap his arms around her slender waist or his hands around her freckled neck he did not know, yet from within that hollow place inside of him he felt the commanding need to eliminate that space. Naturally, as a young man of self control he turned away from her, taking a few strides away from her to make the distance even greater. That only made the missing piece within him call more loudly.<p>

He brought his hands together and twisted the ring on his finger once, twice, thrice as he contemplated his options. He could kill her, certainly. That would be the easiest route to take. There was another route of course, one much more difficult in reason and dangerous in travel, for there wasn't a doubt that Miss Worchol had gone the full way around the bend. Still, she knew things that were impossible to know. She knew of his name, and the Chamber, and his parseltongue and his name. And his name. And his name. That was the only of all the factors that could not possibly be known by any other on this earth.

Ginny could feel the heat radiating off his body, the smell of his essence filling her nose. She could easily recognize the spicy smell of cinnamon and the musky smell of old leather from the diary he held so close to him every second. It was so different then the feelings she had gotten from the memory of Tom. She had been able to touch him, but it was more like touching a feather, something light and gentle, maybe not even there entirely. She never remembered him having a smell either, except the smell from the ancient parchment and leather. She always just assumed it was the diary, never having thought that smell would make her feel so warm.

She was about to reach out for him when he moved away from her. She wondered briefly if she intimidated him, but dismissed that thought quickly. She doubted Tom would be afraid of her or intimidated. He might fear what she could do to him with her knowledge, but she assumed his answer would be to kill her, not move away from her. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, reminding herself to be cautious when she was not facing him. She was under no illusion she could defeat him if he decided to kill her. She was confidant she could hold her own against him, but his knowledge of dark arts far out paced her own, and after a long duel she had no doubt he would win, unless she managed some lucky escape.

"Who's Potter?" He asked her over his shoulder, fingers still fidgeting with his ring. His expression was calm and his voice even but inside of himself he was writhing with both pleasure and agony. Pleasure at the promise of knowledge. Agony at the thought of this knowledge resting within the fiery eyes of this mad girl. Yet he entertained her nonetheless. Tom had never really been afraid of danger anyway.

Ginny blinked, trying to refocus on her surroundings. It took a minute to realize that she was not in her childhood bedroom, but in the Slytherin common room. Though she was still looking up at Tom Riddle, the man in front of her was very much real. They stood, frozen in time, her fingers resting on his cheek and their eyes locked in a blurry vision.

He had felt everything his memory counterpart had felt, heard every thought his counterpart had. And that was what troubled him. He had felt such affection for the small redhead in front of him, such a desire to protect her and care for her. He did not understand those feelings. He did not have feelings like that, he was above the adolescent pursuits of his classmates. He was above the need for such companionship. Those feelings were a weakness he could not afford. What had this witch done to him? What dark magic did she possess that allowed he to enter his thoughts so easily and toy with his mind.

He could easily see below her mask to the darkness she carried, a power like that would be a great asset, not to mention her knowledge of the future was better then any seer. But she was unstable, a volatile concoction awaiting for the right second to explode in a fiery ball of death. He knew he couldn't control her, but his greed would not allow him to kill such a power until he'd found a way to take it from himself. He looked back to where she had been, masking over his surprise to see her gone. He glanced around the room, not seeing her. How long had he been lost in thought? A quick glance at the wall clock showed it had been only a few minutes. She must have gone to bed, but why would she leave in the middle of a revelation like that? He had so many more questions then answers, the annoying confusion that she supplied only seemed to grow. He angrily stormed to his own room, the weight of his diary in his pocket was a comfort in this very troubling time.

She moved to a sofa by the fire, careful not to turn her back to him or look like she was being dodgy. He looked over his shoulder at her, the look in his eyes calculating, she wondered briefly what he was thinking about. When he spoke his question didn't make sense. Potter? How would he know about Harry Potter. She tried to focus her mind, using the Oclumency he taught her to clear away the fog in her brain. She tried to remember what she said about Harry, but she simply could not make sense of the jumbled mess those moments had been. She simply built thick walls a round those memories in hopes to keep what ever caused her break away from her mind.

She looked at him with a smirk on her lips, deciding she could make herself more of a mystery to him. She was fairly confident he wouldn't try to kill her if he felt she had knowledge he needed. She just needed to make herself extremely valuable to him in order to assure her own survival, if that got certain people in her own time line killed so be it. "That all depends" she said crossing her legs, looking the poster image of calm and relaxed. Nygin slithered out from the direction of the girls dormitory. Ginny ran her fingers along the smooth scales of her familiar, remembering the day she'd found the little snake.

It had been the day Tom returned from his state of limbo, the same night Cedric Diggory was killed. She, Ron and Hermione had snuck into the hospital wing to see Harry and Nygin had slithered out of Harry's pocket, hissing she belonged to Ginny. Her familiar had been no more then six inches long, obviously recently hatched, her scales had been so dark, almost black, now they looked a dark forest green. Ginny couldn't help but compare her to how Dumbledore described Tom's familiar Nigini. She wondered briefly when Tom acquired her, she knew Nygin could use a friend.

Her mind quickly returned to the man in front of her, she really hard to find out what was fracturing ever mind and her focus. She could not risk losing herself in front of Tom. She was not afraid of him, but she knew how dangerous he could be. Ginny had never feared danger, and liked living a bit dangerously, but she valued her life enough to keep her mind in front of Tom. "That all depends on you, Tom" she said, wondering how he'd react to his own name instead of his pseudonym.

The prospect of killing her still echoed in his mind, whilst another part of him countered with an argument bearing a weight of its own in validity. Clearly there were things about this girl that were of crucial importance to him. She knew things about him that no one possibly could. This, naturally, would lead one to the assumption that there were others things she knew as well. Things pertaining to his future, perhaps things pertaining to his past. There was no telling what other secrets were locked away beneath that mass of red hair and she certainly didn't seem the type to give up such knowledge freely, without also achieving something for herself. In that sense, Tom could see similarities between the two of them and wasn't sure whether or not to be alarmed at that.

He sat there, listening to the coy chime of her voice as she pulled him further into her labyrinth of lunacy. The web she spun could so neatly trap the brilliant young man if he let it, and likely as not she knew very well how inviting her web must appear. This golden cage seemed all the more enticing by the memories that repeated themselves over again in Tom's mind.

_Memories?_

Were they indeed memories, or where they thoughts? Miss Worchol had been so young in those visions, so delicate and innocent. Her eyes had gleamed with such adoration, eyes so like the ones that her present self had looked at him with upon awaking in the hospital wing. His own form of adoration had been there too. It was in the sweet way he spoke to her and the kind things he said. It was in the gentle way he held her and the care with which he taught her. In those visions is was clear as day to see the affection that unified the two parties yet now, sitting in the Slytherin common room, he knew that she ought to be a stranger to him. Yet, she was not. This riddle had his mind, so superior in function, in knots that he couldn't fathom into reason. These knots begged the one question that had been plaguing his mind since the moment she swept into his otherwise well-orchestrated life.

"Who are you, Miss Worchol?" He asked, turning fully to face her. He took a step towards the could and let his eyes fall away from her face and to the girl's familiar that coiled in her lap. "Who are you to me?"

He recalled the way she had looked at him, how she had said his name, his real name, so perfectly. He recalled the eyes that looked at him in his visions and in his present life and it became obvious, all at once to him, that there was more to this situation than met the eye. Whether or not she would reveal the required information remained to be seen.

A genuine laugh slipped past her lips when he asked her who she was. She wondered how confused she must have made the normally stoic man for him to have left alone an essentially unanswered question, though she was a bit pleased he found who she was a more important topic then who Harry was. She liked being important, no matter who she stepped on, especially if she stepped on Harry.

She watched him advance on her a little, stopping short as his eyes fell on Nygin. His second question hit her like a bludger. Why was that question so hard for her to understand an answer to. She kept a coy smirk on her face to mask her internal war. Who was she to him? At eleven she might have said he was her Best friend, while that was true there was so much more to it. The memories from the diary looked so different now then they did six years ago.

The way he looked at her, spoke to her and treated her. They looked different then they had as a child. If he had asked her before she might have said she was like a kid sister to him, because that was the only kind of relationship she truly understood. She had been oblivious to anything else about their friendship. But looking at them from a woman's perspective new things were realized. He had looked at her with almost a sad longing, and when he had told her she wasn't herself yet there was a strange tinge to his voice she didn't recognize.

If he looked at her as a sister, a child to mentor or even as a friend he would not have looked at her the way he did. His actions now looked vulnerable almost, crucial cracks in his stony defense. Tom would never have opened himself up for a possible attack unless he knew he wouldn't be attacked. Even if up against an eleven year old he would have remained closed off. A strange realization dawned on her. She had no idea who she was to him, she only knew she was or at least had been important to him.

She shifted Nygin a little, tucking her feet underneath her. "I could tell you who I am. But where is the fun in that?" She asked with a smirk. "I can't give you all my secrets, you might get bored with me" she paused for a second before adding. "Very little of what I have said about who I am was a lie, and nothing you have seen was a lie." She said in a slightly cryptic manner. It was true, her only lies were her last name and where she went to school before this year, as far as she could recall. "How could I tell you who I am to you? Shouldn't you be able to tell me?" She smirked, evading his question with a plausible answer.

Of course, she responded to his question with one of her own. It was typical, of this coy girl to play at her games and while Tom was endlessly frustrated by it he wouldn't let it register on his face. He was a patient young man by virtue, he always had been, and he wasn't about to let this one girl uncoil all that he had once been. Though, if anyone were to be capable of such a feat it would likely be this person before him now. With her familiar coiled in her lap and that devilish smile painted on her pale face, Tom could feel the familiar tugging of that empty place inside of him. Deciding to accept her challenge he turned to one part of him that seemed to know just exactly who Miss Worchol was.

He turned away from her and began to pace the room. As he did his hand reached inside of his robes and his fingers began to toy with the pages of the diary within. He kept his back to her as he stood there, his eyes gazing off into some unseen point in the distance. His robes muffled the sound of the pages turning but they fluttered nevertheless in his eager hands as he reached his senses out into that part of him that he had felt break away from himself on that day. He still remembered that tearing feeling as though it had been yesterday and though he still did not entirely understand what it meant, he knew that it pertained to the diary just as he knew that the death of that filthy muggle pertained to the ring on his finger that he toyed with so often.

At first he could not make sense of what it was he was experiencing. Waves of emotion wracked him that he knew he had never felt before. Inadequacy, awe, and fear coursed through his veins and soured his blood yet these were things that Tom had never himself experienced. Words paired with these emotions, written in a hand that tried it's best to be neat but was nevertheless shaky. He saw that name many times slide across his inner vision, "_Harry_." Who exactly this mysterious person was still unbeknownst to Tom yet he knew that he was important by the number of times he saw in written in that messy, squiggly hand.

"You're the youngest..." He began. "Of seven." He turned around to face her and let his eyes lock with hers. "All brothers." His hand retracted itself from the pages of the diary and out of his robes and as it did, the feelings and scribbled words faded from his awareness. Once again he was himself. "That must have been challenging for someone like you." He added with a smooth expression. "Am I right?"

She gave him a curious look when he turned away from her and started pacing. She couldn't help but think he looked much like a caged animal. And here she was poking him through the bars of his prison. She almost chuckled at that analogy. He was just as dangerous as a caged animal, waiting for the second the lock came undone so he could devour his captors. She wondered how long it would take him to lose his control and show her the terrible beast within.

She had been so lost in her own thoughts and when he spoke to her she almost jumped, the only thing that kept her from doing so was knowing he would see that as a weakness. His words echoed in her mind. 'You're not weak. Never allow anything to control you' she shook her head, the memory from the chamber threatening to allow the fog to take over her mind again. She could already feel the pull of the mist, beckoning her into the mysterious recesses of madness. She almost went into the fog, imagining the interesting things she could find in there.

Tom's voice cut through the fog, clearing her mind instantaneously. Ginny thought the fog retreated almost as if it were a living being who was burned by Tom's voice. She shook herself mentally, she needed to focus, Tom was saying something to her and she needed to answer him. He was saying something she couldn't really make out, something about her brothers. She paused, wondering how he knew about her brothers. He must be remembering her! She looked up at him with the same love and adoration she had shown him as a young child. As quickly as the look entered her eyes she blocked it out, letting her coy mask fall back into place.

"Bravo Tom." She purred in a sultry voice. "You've managed to guess something about me" she said, having not noticed him using the diary in any way. "Having six brothers was almost fun" she said with a smirk, shifting a sleeping Nygin off her lap, standing up. She walked toward him with a coy smirk on her lips, stopping only inches from him. "It taught me how to wrap any kind of man around my finger." She said in a voice barely above a whisper.

She thought for a second about what he said. It was not the fact that her six siblings were all boys that was challenging. It was the fact that there were six of Them. She had fought so hard to get out of their shadows, and she never was quite sure she had done that. She knew she was magically stronger then them, more cunning then them and far more knowledgeable then them. But no one else knew that, so even though she was superior to them in every way she remained hidden by their shadows. "Some one like me?" She asked, almost wanting to wipe that smooth smirk off his lips. Whether it was with a well placed hex or a kiss she wasn't quite sure. "What exactly is someone like me?" She asked in an amused voice.

He gave her a strange look. He was not sure why he had phrased his statement like that. He didn't miss the amused lilt to her voice and was once again struck with the desire to strangle her. She knew who he was, she should know not to laugh at him. He was still not convinced she was worth the trouble. "Someone like me" he said, advancing on her again. Ginny was acutely aware of the predatory grin, he almost looked like a jaguar stalking its prey.

He took great pleasure in her eyes going wide and round when his hand closed around her throat, pushing her back against the stone wall. "Someone who craves power" he said in a dark whisper, his lips against her ear. He had no idea why he was behaving like this, something about this irritating redhead awakened something he never knew was inside him. The aching hole in his soul was calling to her, desperately trying to connect.

Ginny's heart pounded painfully hard in her chest when she felt the hard stone connect painfully with the back of her head. Some how the hand clamped tightly on her throat did not even register on her radar, at least that was until she felt his magic tingling through her skin. She let out a gasp, not of pain or of fear, the noise of overwhelming pleasure as his magic coursed through her. She could smell his comforting scent, mixed with the raw power she felt rolling off him in waves. She instinctively tilted her head, giving him more access to her neck. The action was not thought of by either party, the subtle undertone of her action missed because of they were both lost in the moment. If Ginny was aware of her action she might have stopped herself from submitting herself to Tom like this, then again, she might not have. He had been the center of her world, in one capacity or the other, since she was eleven.

Tom smirked as she relaxed under his grip, the urge to tighten his hand overwhelming and he was surprised when she gasped, though she didn't seem to be in pain. In fact she seemed to like when he took control like this. He had never understood the desire most boys his age had toward women, but this woman in front of him was different. She was the only girl he could see being his equal in every way. She certainly was an enigma in most areas, what was a little more mystery?

He licked his lip as she tilted her head back slightly, wondering how she would react if he bit down on the creamy flesh in front of him. "Someone who is superior to all of these pathetic cockroaches" he said, his lips moving from her ear down her neck, biting down on her neck. Ginny let out a cry when she felt his teeth sink into the tender flesh where her neck and shoulder met. She registered the pain, his teeth were strangely sharp. She could feel his body pressed against hers and she felt every spot where his body touched hers alight with his magic. Her hands went to his shoulders but she didn't push him away, she simply used him and the wall behind her to keep herself upright.

Tom pulled away, smirking at the deep purple mark forming on her pale delicate skin. He looked her over her, her firey eyes glazed over and her head still tilted. Her lips were parted ever so slightly in an attempt to regulate her breathing. Her skin was slightly flushed pink and her chest moved up and down harder then was normal. "Who are you to me Ginevra?" He asked, slightly surprised by the husky quality to his voice. He had never felt such a physical reaction like this, toward anyone. He did not know how to process this new development. He didn't know what to do with the coy girl in front of him, the desire to strangle her still in the forefront of his mind.

Ginny blinked several times, trying to clear the mist that enveloped her. His question hung thickly in the air, surrounding her like a fog. Who was she to him? She didn't know if she could answer that. Shouldn't he tell her what she was to him? How could she know what she was to him? She wasn't in his head. She looked up at him, pale blue eyes boring into her soul and she knew the answer to his question. "I'm what ever you want me to be Tom" she said in a breathy voice, his hand on her throat starting to make breathing hard. "I'm yours. Always yours. Voldemort" She said, her grip on his shoulders tightening ever so slightly as her knees went a little weak.

A greedy smirk formed on his lips when she said his name, his true name, and claimed to be his. Something in side of the ache in his soul growled with pleasure, clawing at his chest in approval. "Mine" He growled possessively, hid hand sliding to the back of her neck. He didn't give her much of an opportunity to regain her breath as he smashed his lips against hers.

There was nothing romantic about this kiss, nothing sweet or gentle, like so many first kisses were. It was demanding and possessive, it was brutal and left Ginny panting for breath. When the finally parted Ginny's lips were swollen and red. "Yours" she repeated in a soft voice.

He abruptly pulled away from her, looking at her as if she had possessed him. Before she could say anything he was gone, disappearing to his dormitory. She was left alone in the cold common room. She was half tempted to follow him, demand that he not leave her like that. But when she thought about it she knew it would be a bad idea for her. She let out a sigh, heading for her own dormitory. She needed sleep, it had been a rather long day, not to mention magically draining.

She opened her door to her dormitory, wanting to just sink into her bed and fall asleep. However, the universe had other plans and Eileen had Amaris in their dormitory visiting. "Ginny!" Amaris gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, a scandalized look on her face. "What are you doing here Amaris? And why are you still up Eileen?" She gave the girls a withering look, not wanting to deal with either of them at the moment. "Ginny what is that on your neck!" Amaris said as if she didn't hear Ginny's question.

Eileen spun around on her bed to get a better look at what Amaris was talking about. Her eyes went a little wide as she surveyed the regal redhead. It looked to be a love bite. But Ginny was new to the school, who would be doing that with Ginny? Not to mention the fact Ginny hardly seemed like a tart. She wisely didn't say anything, seeing the darkening expression on Ginny's face. She was so much like Tom Riddle. Tragically beautiful, and more powerful then all of them. Slightly feared and extremely respected. She could tell Ginny would not hesitate to punish someone, though Eileen rationalized it the same way everyone rationalized Tom's punishments. It was meant to help them grow.

A vicious smirk settled on her lips as she rounded on the girl. She'd heard plenty of Amaris' reputation, and it wasn't exactly virginal. "Amaris, I'm sure even with your limited intellect you can figure out it's a love bite" Ginny hissed, advancing on the girl. "This is curtsey of your beloved Head Boy" she said, enjoying the shocked looks which were quickly replaced with jealous hatred. She pulled her wand out of her pocket, pressing it hard into Amaris' throat. "You won't mention it to anyone." She said with a dark giggle. "Will you now?" she asked, muttering a spell under her breath.

Amaris let out a strangled cry as she collapsed to the floor, her throat throbbing painfully as she clawed at the skin, desperately trying to get what ever was clogging her throat out. She looked up at Ginny with wide, fearful eyes. "And you'll do well to stay away from Tom. He's mine. Try tarting yourself up for Delerio or some other imbecile" She hissed, her smirk turning to a sickly sweet smile as she released the spell, Amaris gulping down air. "Good night ladies" she said, dressing for bed and climbing into her bed.


End file.
